calculated candidly in her own mind the advantages of the match. She
told herself that Mademoiselle Cormon would be very lucky to secure a
husband in a young man of twenty-three, full of talent, who would
always be an honor to his family and the neighborhood; at the same
time the obstacles which her son's want of fortune and Mademoiselle
Cormon's age presented to the marriage seemed to her almost
insurmountable; she could think of nothing but patience as being able
to vanquish them. Like du Bousquier, like the Chevalier de Valois, she
had a policy of her own; she was on the watch for circumstances,
awaiting the propitious moment for a move with the shrewdness of
maternal instinct. Madame Granson had no fears at all as to the
chevalier, but she did suppose that du Bousquier, although refused,
retained certain hopes. As an able and underhand enemy to the latter,
she did him much secret harm in the interests of her son; from whom,
by the bye, she carefully concealed all such proceedings.

After this explanation it is easy to understand the importance which
Suzanne's lie, confided to Madame Granson, was about to acquire. What
a weapon put into the hands of this charitable lady, the treasurer of
the Maternity Society! How she would gently and demurely spread the
news while collecting assistance for the chaste Suzanne!

At the present moment Athanase, leaning pensively on his elbow at the
breakfast table, was twirling his spoon in his empty cup and
contemplating with a preoccupied eye the poor room with its red brick
floor, its straw chairs, its painted wooden buffet, its pink and white
curtains chequered like a backgammon board, which communicated with
the kitchen through a glass door. As his back was to the chimney which
his mother faced, and as the chimney was opposite to the door, his
pallid face, strongly lighted from the window, framed in beautiful