fellow if I complained of you, or your husband, or any one in the
house."

"In that case, my child, it must be that your grief for your wife's
death has come back. Instead of lessening with time, your loneliness
grows worse, and you absolutely must do what your father-in-law very
wisely advised, you must marry again."

"Yes, mother, that would be my idea, too; but the women you advised me
to seek don't suit me. When I see them, instead of forgetting Catherine,
I think of her all the more."

"The trouble apparently is, Germain, that we haven't succeeded in
divining your taste. So you must help us by telling us the truth.
Doubtless there's a woman somewhere who was made for you, for the good
Lord doesn't make anybody without putting by his happiness for him in
somebody else. So if you know where to go for the wife you need, go and
get her; and whether she's pretty or ugly, young or old, rich or poor,
we have made up our minds, my old man and I, to give our consent; for
we're tired of seeing you so sad, and we can't live at peace if you are
not."

"You are as good as the good Lord, mother, and so is father," replied
Germain; "but your compassion can't cure my trouble: the girl I would
like won't have me."

"Is it because she's too young? It's unwise for you to put your thoughts
on a young girl."