"On the other hand, you would do wrong if the child were to be the gainer by it. He is not happy with you, and he might be elsewhere."
"Why, isn't he happy with me? I hope he is, except on the days when I am absent; and so I say I will not absent myself again."
"I tell you he is no better off when you are here."
"What do you mean?" cried Brulette, striking her hands with vexation; "where have you heard that? Did you ever see me ill-treat the child, or even threaten him? Can I help it if he is an unpleasant child with a sulky disposition? If he were my own I could not do better for him."
"Oh! I know you are not unkind to him and never let him want for anything, because you are a dear, sweet Christian; but you can't love him, for that doesn't depend upon yourself. He feels this without knowing it, and that keeps him from loving and caressing others. Animals know when people like them or dislike them; why shouldn't little human beings do the same?"
TWENTIETH EVENING.
Brulette colored, pouted, began to cry, and said nothing; but the next day I met her leading her beasts to pasture with Charlot in her arms. She sat down in the middle of the field with the child on the skirt of her gown, and said to me:—
"You were right, Tiennet. Your reproaches made me reflect, and I have made up my mind what to do. I can't promise to love this Charlot much, but I'll behave as if I did, and perhaps God will reward me some day by giving me children of my own more lovable than this one."
"Ah, my darling!" I cried. "I don't know what makes you say that. I never blamed you; I have nothing to reproach you with except the obstinacy with which you now resolve to bring up the little wretch yourself. Come, let me write to that friar, or let me go and find him and make him put the child in another family. I know where the convent is, and I would rather make another long journey than see you condemned to this sort of thing."