having broached it, for, truth to tell, one never knew where Beauchene
might really be when he claimed to have gone shooting. He availed himself
so often of this pretext to absent himself from home that Constance was
doubtless aware of the truth. But in the presence of that household,
whose union was so perfect, she was determined to show a brave front.

"Well, you know," said she, "it is I who compel him to go about and take
as much exercise as possible. He has a temperament that needs the open
air. Shooting is very good for him."

At this same moment there came another ring at the door, announcing
another visitor. And this time it was Madame Morange who entered the
room, with her daughter Reine. She colored when she caught sight of
Madame Beauchene, so keenly was she impressed by that perfect model of
wealth and distinction, whom she ever strove to imitate. Constance,
however, profited by the diversion of Valerie's arrival to declare that
she unfortunately could not remain any longer, as a friend must now be
waiting for her at home.

"Well, at all events, leave us Maurice," suggested Mathieu. "Here's Reine
here now, and all six children can play a little while together. I will
bring you the boy by and by, when he has had a little snack."

But Maurice had already once more sought refuge among his mother's
skirts. And she refused the invitation. "Oh! no, no!" said she. "He has
to keep to a certain diet, you know, and he must not eat anything away
from home. Good-by; I must be off. I called only to inquire after you all
in passing. Keep well; good-by."

Then she led her boy away, never speaking to Valerie, but simply shaking