"Don't you think he will look lovely in that?" she was always asking, and her mother and the baron smiled at this all-absorbing affection; but Julien would exclaim, impatiently, "What a nuisance she is with that brat!" for his habits had been upset and his overweening importance diminished by the arrival of this noisy, imperious tyrant, and he was half-jealous of the scrap of humanity who now held the first place in the house. Jeanne could hardly bear to be away from her baby for an instant, and she even sat watching him all night through as he lay sleeping in his cradle. These vigils and this continual anxiety began to tell upon her health. The want of sleep weakened her and she grew thinner and thinner, until, at last, the doctor ordered the child to be separated from her.
It was in vain that she employed tears, commands and entreaties. Each night the baby slept with his nurse, and each night his mother rose from her bed and went, barefooted, to put her ear to the keyhole and listen if he was sleeping quietly. Julien found her there one night as he was coming in late from dining at the Fourvilles, and after that she was locked into her room every evening to compel her to stay in bed.
The child was to be named Pierre Simon Paul (they were going to call him Paul) and at the end of August he was christened, the baron being godfather, and Aunt Lison godmother. At the beginning of September Aunt Lison went away, and her absence was as unnoticed as her presence had been.
One evening, after dinner, the curé called at the château. There seemed an air of mystery about him, and, after a few commonplace remarks, he asked the baron and baroness if he could speak to them in private for a few moments. They all three walked slowly down the avenue talking eagerly as they went, while Julien, feeling uneasy and irritated at this secrecy, was left behind with Jeanne. He offered to accompany the priest when he went away, and they walked off towards the church where the angelus was ringing. It was a cool, almost cold, evening, and the others soon went into the house. They were all beginning to feel a little drowsy when the drawing-room door was suddenly thrown open and Julien came in looking very vexed. Without stopping to see whether Jeanne was there or not, he cried to the baron, as soon as he entered the room:
"Upon my soul you must be mad to go and give twenty thousand francs to that girl!"
They were all taken too much by surprise to make any answer, and he went on, too angry to speak distinctly: "I can't understand how you can be such fools! But there I suppose you will keep on till we haven't a sou left!"
The baron, recovering himself, a little, tried to check his son-in-law:
"Be quiet!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see that your wife is in the room?"
"I don't care if she is," answered Julien, stamping his foot. "Besides, she ought to know about it. It is depriving her of her rightful inheritance."
Jeanne had listened to her husband in amazement, utterly at a loss to know what it was all about: