Chantebled felt indeed almost out
of their element in the presence of this young Parisian with bourgeois
manners.

"And are all your little folks quite well?" resumed Constance, who, with
her sharp eyes, was comparing her son with the other lads. "Ambroise has
grown; his elder brothers also look very strong."

Her examination did not apparently result to Maurice's advantage. The
latter was tall and looked sturdy, but he had quite a waxen complexion.
Nevertheless, the glance that Constance gave the others was full of
irony, disdain, and condemnation. When she had first heard that Marianne
was likely to become a mother once more she had made no secret of her
disapproval. She held to her old opinions more vigorously than ever.

Marianne, knowing full well that they would fall out if they discussed
the subject of children, sought another topic of conversation. She
inquired after Beauchene. "And Alexandre," said she, "why did you not
bring him with you? I haven't seen him for a week!"

"Why," broke in Mathieu, "I told you he had gone shooting yesterday
evening. He slept, no doubt, at Puymoreau, the other side of Chantebled,
so as to be in the woods at daybreak this morning, and he probably won't
be home till to-morrow."

"Ah! yes, I remember now. Well, it's nice weather to be in the woods."

This, however, was another perilous subject, and Marianne regretted
having broached it, for, truth to tell, one never knew where Beauchene
might really be when he claimed to have gone shooting. He availed
himself so often of this pretext to absent himself from home that
Constance was doubtless aware of the truth. But in the presence of that
household, whose union was so perfect, she was determined to show a
brave front.

"Well, you know," said she, "it is I who compel him to go about and take
as much exercise as possible. He has a temperament that needs the open
air. Shooting is very good for him."

At this same moment there came another ring at the door, announcing
another visitor. And this time it was Madame Morange who entered the
room, with her daughter Reine. She colored when she caught sight of
Madame Beauchene, so keenly was she impressed by that perfect model
of wealth and distinction, whom she ever strove to imitate. Constance,
however, profited by the diversion of Valerie's arrival to declare that
she unfortunately could not remain any longer, as a friend must now be
waiting for her at home.

"Well, at all events, le