ows his business," Madame
Broquette allowed herself to say, with a flattering smile. "I don't
often have such pearls. But she has only just arrived, otherwise she
would probably have been engaged already. I can answer for her as I
could for myself, for I have put her out before."

The nurse was a dark woman of about twenty-six, of average height, built
strongly enough, but having a heavy, common face with a hard-looking
jaw. Having already been in service, however, she held herself fairly
well.

"So that child is not your first one?" asked the doctor.

"No, monsieur, he's my third."

Then Boutan inquired into her circumstances, studied her papers, took
her into Madame Broquette's private room for examination, and on his
return make a minute inspection of her child, a strong plump boy, some
three months old, who in the interval had remained very quiet on an
armchair. The doctor seemed satisfied, but he suddenly raised his head
to ask, "And that child is really your own?"

"Oh! monsieur, where could I have got him otherwise?"

"Oh! my girl, children are borrowed, you know."

Then he paused for a moment, still hesitating and looking at the young
woman, embarrassed by some feeling of doubt, although she seemed to
embody all requirements. "And are you all quite well in your family?" he
asked; "have none of your relatives ever died of chest complaints?"

"Never, monsieur."

"Well, of course you would not tell me if they had. Your books ought to
contain a page for information of that kind. And you, are you of sober
habits? You don't drink?"

"Oh! monsieur."

This time the young woman bristled up, and Boutan had to calm her.
Then her face brightened with pleasure as soon as the doctor--with the
gesture of a man who is taking his chance, for however careful one may
be there is always an element of chance in such matters--said to her:
"Well, it is understood, I engage you. If you can send your child away
at once, you can go this evening to the address I will give you. Let me
see, what is your name?"

"Marie Lebleu."

Madame Broquette, who, without presuming to interfere with a doctor,
had retained her majestic air which so fully proclaimed the high
respectability of her establishment, now turned towards her daughter:
"Herminie, go to see if Madame Couteau is still there."

Then, as the girl slowly raised her pale dreamy eyes without stirring
from her chair, her mother came to the conclusion that she had better