discourage you, madame. But the land you know, is just like children.
There are some who live and some who die; some who give one pleasure,
and others who kill one with grief. But, all considered, one always
bestows more on them than one gets back, and in the end one finds
oneself duped. You'll see, you'll see."

Without replying, Marianne, moved by these malicious predictions,
gently raised her trustful eyes to Mathieu. And he, though for a moment
irritated by all the ignorance, envy, and imbecile ambition which he
felt were before him, contented himself with jesting. "That's it, we'll
see. When your son Antoine becomes a prefect, and I have twelve peasant
daughters ready, I'll invite you to their weddings, for it's your mill
that ought to be rebuilt, you know, and provided with a fine engine,
so as to grind all the corn of my property yonder, left and right,
everywhere!"

The sweep of his arm embraced such a far expanse of ground that the
miller, who did not like to be derided, almost lost his temper. He
lashed his horse with his whip, and the cart jolted on again through the
ruts.

"Wheat in the ear is not wheat in the mill," said he. "Au revoir, and
good luck to you, all the same."

"Thanks, au revoir."

Then, while the children still ran about, seeking early primroses among
the mosses, Mathieu came and sat down beside Marianne, who, he saw,
was quivering. He said nothing to her, for he knew that she possessed
sufficient strength and confidence to surmount, unaided, such fears for
the future as threats might kindle in her womanly heart. But he simply
set himself there, so near her that he touched her, looking and smiling
at her the while. And she immediately became calm again and likewise
smiled, while little Gervais, whom the words of the malicious could not
as yet disturb, nursed more eagerly than ever, with a purr of rapturous
satisfaction. The milk was ever trickling, bringing flesh to little
limbs which grew stronger day by day, spreading through the earth,
filling the whole world, nourishing the life which increased hour by
hour. And was not this the answer which faith and hope returned to all
threats of death?--the certainty of life's victory, with fine children
ever growing in the sunlight, and fine crops ever rising from the soil
at each returning spring! To-morrow, yet once again, on the glorious day
of harvest, the corn will have ripened, the children will be men!

And it was thus, indeed, three