Rue Vivienne had been transferred to the foreman of the shop. The flour
trade alone occupied Madame Desvarennes's attention. She ruled the prices
in the market; and great bankers came to her office and did business with
her on a footing of equality. She did not become any prouder for it, she
knew too well the strength and weakness of life to have pride; her former
plain dealing had not stiffened into self-sufficiency. Such as one had
known her when beginning business, such one found her in the zenith of
her fortune. Instead of a woollen gown she wore a silk one, but the color
was still black; her language had not become refined; she retained the
same blunt familiar accent, and at the end of five minutes' conversation
with any one of importance she could not resist calling him "my dear," to
come morally near him. Her commands had more fulness. In giving her
orders, she had the manner of a commander-in-chief, and it was useless to
haggle when she had spoken. The best thing to do was to obey, as well and
as promptly as possible.

Placed in a political sphere, this marvellously gifted woman would have
been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a Catherine
II.; there was genius in her. Sprung from the lower ranks, her
superiority had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the great
mind might have governed the world.

Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her
fireside was devoid of a cradle. During the first years she had rejoiced
at not having a child. Where could she have found time to occupy herself
with a baby? Business engrossed her attention; she had no leisure to
amuse herself with trifles. Maternity seemed to her a luxury for rich
women; she had her fortune to make. In the struggle against the
difficulties attending the enterprise she had begun, she had not had time
to look around her and perceive that her home was lonely. She worked from