bravely went their way, smiling at one another, and feeling convinced
that the course they had taken in life was the right one, whatever other
folks might think or say.

It was three o'clock when they turned their steps homeward; and Marianne,
feeling rather tired, then took a little rest on a sofa in the
drawing-room, where Zoe had previously lighted a good fire. The children,
quieted by fatigue, were sitting round a little table, listening to a
tale which Denis read from a story-book, when a visitor was announced.
This proved to be Constance, who, after driving out with Maurice, had
thought of calling to inquire after Marianne, whom she saw only once or
twice a week, although the little pavilion was merely separated by a
garden from the large house on the quay.

"Oh! are you poorly, my dear?" she inquired as she entered the room and
perceived Marianne on the sofa.

"Oh! dear, no," replied the other, "but I have been out walking for the
last two hours and am now taking some rest."

Mathieu had brought an armchair forward for his wife's rich, vain cousin,
who, whatever her real feelings, certainly strove to appear amiable. She
apologized for not being able to call more frequently, and explained what
a number of duties she had to discharge as mistress of her home. Meantime
Maurice, clad in black velvet, hung round her petticoats, gazing from a
distance at the other children, who one and all returned his scrutiny.

"Well, Maurice," exclaimed his mother, "don't you wish your little
cousins good-day?"