The first time that she saw him with a downcast face the mistress had
questioned him, and he had frankly expressed his regrets. But he had
been so repelled by his wife, in whose heart a great trouble, steadily
repressed, however, had been produced, that he never dared to recur to
the subject.

He suffered in silence. But he no longer suffered alone. Like an
overflowing river that finds an outlet in the valley, which it inundates,
the longings for maternity, hitherto repressed by the preoccupations of
business, had suddenly seized Madame Desvarennes.

Strong and unyielding, she struggled and would not own herself conquered.
Still she became sad. Her voice sounded less sonorously in the offices
where she gave an order; her energetic nature seemed subdued. Now she
looked around her. She beheld prosperity made stable by incessant work,
respect gained by spotless honesty; she had attained the goal which she
had marked out in her ambitious dreams, as being paradise itself.
Paradise was there; but it lacked the angel. They had no child.

From that day a change came over this woman, slowly but surely; scarcely
perceptible to strangers, but easy to be seen by those around her.
She became benevolent, and gave away considerable sums of money,
especially to children's "Homes." But when the good people who governed
these establishments, lured on by her generosity, came to ask her to be
on their committee of management, she became angry, asking them if they
were joking with her? What interest could those brats have for her?
She had other fish to fry. She gave them what they needed, and what
more could they want? The fact was she felt weak and troubled before
children. But within her a powerful and unknown voice had arisen, and