“You have found me now that I can be useful to you; that is all that is necessary. Let us embrace again, and look upon me as your brother, as the father of this poor child; since he who ought to cherish her, and to adore you, has not a heart like other men; since he is unworthy to—Well, well! you want me to hold my tongue; you love him still, I see. Well! I am done; we won’t talk about him any more, and we will try to forget him.”
“Oh! if he had seen you,” said Adeline; “if he had found his brother, perhaps your advice——”
“If he had seen me!—But I must let that drop.—Let us forget an ingrate, who is not worthy of a single one of the tears you shed for him.”
“Yes, yes, let’s be merry and joyful,” said Guillot; “morgué! we mustn’t be groaning all the time; that makes a body stupid as a fool. Let’s sit down at the table, and to-night Brother Jacques will tell us about one of his battles, to amuse us. That’s amusing, I tell you! When I have been listening to him, I dream about battles all night long, I take my wife’s rump for a battery of artillery, and her legs for a battalion of infantry; and I think I hear the cannon.”
“Hold your tongue, my man.”
After the meal, they set about making the preparations required by Adeline’s presence at the farm. Louise arranged for her a small room looking on the fields; she tried to make it as pleasant as possible, by carrying thither such pretty things as she could find in the house. In vain did Adeline try to prevent her; when Louise had determined upon anything, that thing must be done; she refused to listen to the young woman when she implored her to look upon her as nothing but a poor peasant woman; the farmer’s wife desired to make Madame Murville forget her change of fortune, by redoubling her efforts to serve her with zeal and affection. Jacques did not thank the farmer’s wife, but he took her hands and pressed them fondly every time that she did anything for his sister, and Sans-Souci cried, bringing his hand down upon Guillot’s back:
“Morbleu! you have a fine wife, cousin! She manages things right well!”
“That’s so,” said Guillot; “that’s why I don’t meddle with anything, not even with the children. Well, well, morgué, they come along well, all the same!”
Thus Adeline became an inmate of the farm house; she worked rapidly with the needle, and Louise was obliged to allow her to employ her whole day, either in sewing or spinning. Jacques felt that his strength was increased twofold since his brother’s wife and his little niece were with him. He alone was worth three farm hands; having become expert in the labor of the farm, he added to the farmer’s income by the pains that he took with everything which he did. Sans-Souci for his part imitated his comrade; he would have been ashamed to remain idle while the others employed their time to such good purpose. So that everything went well at the farm; Guillot and his wife scolded Adeline because she worked too much, and forbade Jacques to do so large a share of the work. But no heed was paid to them, and they had the agreeable certainty that they were not a burden to the worthy peasants.
Several months passed thus, without bringing any change in the situation of the people at the farm. Adeline would have been content with her lot, if she could sometimes have heard from her husband; for she still loved the man who had wrecked her life, and the memory of Edouard constantly disturbed her repose. “What is he doing now?” she would ask herself each day; and the thought that Dufresne was with him added to her unhappiness and redoubled her anxiety. Often she formed the plan of going to Paris to make inquiries concerning her husband’s conduct; but she was afraid of offending Jacques, who, being bitterly angry with his brother, did not wish to hear his name mentioned, and had begged Adeline never to talk to him about Edouard.