so delighted to
see you there, to show you our encampment."

Then he jested respecting the bareness of the lonely pavilion which they
occupied, recounting that as yet they possessed only a dozen plates and
five egg-cups. But Beauchene knew the pavilion, for he went shooting
in the neighborhood every winter, having a share in the tenancy of some
extensive woods, the shooting-rights over which had been parcelled out
by the owner.

"Seguin," said he, "is a friend of mine. I have lunched at your
pavilion. It's a perfect hovel!"

Then Constance, contemptuous at the idea of such poverty, recalled what
Madame Seguin--to whom she referred as Valentine--had told her of the
dilapidated condition of the old shooting-box. But the doctor, after
listening with a smile, broke in:

"Mme. Seguin is a patient of mine. At the time when her last child
was born I advised her to stay at that pavilion. The atmosphere is
wholesome, and children ought to spring up there like couch-grass."

Thereupon, with a sonorous laugh, Beauchene began to jest in his
habitual way, remarking that if the doctor were correct there would
probably be no end to Mathieu's progeny, numerous as it already was.
But this elicited an angry protest from Constance, who on the subject
of children held the same views as her husband himself professed in his
more serious moments.

Mathieu thoroughly understood what they both meant. They regarded him
and his wife with derisive pity, tinged with anger.

The advent of the young couple's last child, little Rose, had already
increased their expenses to such a point that they had been obliged to
seek refuge in the country, in a mere pauper's hovel. And yet, in spite
of Beauchene's sneers and Constance's angry remarks, Mathieu outwardly
remained very calm. Constance and Marianne had never been able to agree;
they differed too much in all respects; and for his part he laughed
off every attack, unwilling as he was to let anger master him, lest a
rupture should ensue.

But Beauchene waxed passionate on the subject. That question of the
birth-rate and the present-day falling off in population was one which
he thought he had completely mastered, and on which he held forth at
length authoritatively. He began by challenging the impartiality of
Boutan, whom he knew to be a fervent partisan of large families. He
made merry with him, declaring that no medical man could possibly have
a disinterested opinion on the subject. Then he br