"Adieu, my dear Adolphe. Write to me often and tell me
always about your affairs. Take care of yourself, and try
to keep well; but if you should feel ill come back to your
native place. There will always be milk and syrup for you,
and you know that I am not a bad nurse. Every one wishes to
be remembered to you, and I send you my holy blessing.

"AURORE D----"

She considered him idle, and reproached him with his lack of dignity and
with making himself too familiar with his inferiors. She could not admit
this familiarity, although she was certainly a friend of the people
and of the peasants. Between sympathy and familiarity there was a
distinction, and Aurore took care not to forget this. There was always
something of the _grande dame_ in her. Boucoiran was devoted, though,
and she counted on him for looking after her children, for keeping
her strictly _au courant_, and letting her know in case of illness.
Perfectly easy on this score, she could live in Paris on an income of
sixty pounds by adding to it what she could earn.

Casimir made no objections. All that happened later on in this
existence, which was from henceforth so stormy, happened with his
knowledge and with his consent. He was a poor sort of man.

Let us consider now, for a moment, Baronne Dudevant's impressions after
such a marriage. We will not speak of her sadness nor of her disgust. In
a union of this kind, how could the sacred and beneficial character
of marriage have appeared to her? A husband should be a companion.
She never knew the charm of true intimacy, nor the delight of thoughts
shared with another. A husband is the counsellor, the friend. When she