nne had lost their
son Gregoire, the master of the mill, whose widow Therese still ruled
there amid a numerous progeny. And again they had to mourn another of
their daughters, the kind-hearted Marguerite, Dr. Chambouvet's wife,
who sickened and died, through having sheltered a poor workman's little
children, who were affected with croup. And the other losses could no
longer be counted among them were some who had married into the family,
wives and husbands, and there were in particular many children, the
tithe that death always exacts, those who are struck down by the storms
which sweep over the human crop, all the dear little ones for whom the
living weep, and who sanctify the ground in which they rest.

But if the dear departed yonder slept in deepest silence, how gay was
the uproar and how great the victory of life that morning along the
roads which led to Chantebled! The number of those who were born
surpassed that of those who died. From each that departed, a whole
florescence of living beings seemed to blossom forth. They sprang up in
dozens from the ground where their forerunners had laid themselves to
sleep when weary of their work. And they flocked to Chantebled from
every side, even as swallows return at spring to revivify their old
nests, filling the blue sky with the joy of their return. Outside the
farm, vehicles were ever setting down fresh families with troops
of children, whose sea of fair heads was always expanding.
Great-grandfathers with snowy hair came leading little ones who could
scarcely toddle. There were very nice-looking old ladies whom young
girls of dazzling freshness assisted to alight. There were mothers
expecting the arrival of other babes, and fathers to whom the charming
idea had occurred of inviting their daughters' affianced lovers. And
they were all related, they had all sprung from a common ancestry, they
were all mingled in an inextricable tangle, fathers, mothers,
brothers, sisters, fathers-in-law, mothers-in-law, brothers-in-law,
sisters-in-law, sons, daughters, uncles, aunts, and cousins, of every
possible degree, down to the fourth generation. And they were all one
family; one sole little nation, assembling in joy and pride to celebrate
that diamond wedding, the rare prodigious nuptials of two heroic
creatures whom life had glorified and from whom all had sprung! And what
an epic, what a Biblical numbering of that people suggested itself! How
even name all those who entered the