“Morbleu! you have a fine wife, cousin! She manages things right well!” “That’s so,” said Guillot; “that’s why I don’t meddle with anything, not even with the children. Well, well, morgué, they come along well, all the same!” Thus Adeline became an inmate of the farm house; she worked rapidly with the needle, and Louise was obliged to allow her to employ her whole day, either in sewing or spinning. Jacques felt that his strength was increased twofold since his brother’s wife and his little niece were with him. He alone was worth three farm hands; having become expert in the labor of the farm, he added to the farmer’s income by the pains that he took with everything which he did. Sans-Souci for his part imitated his comrade; he would have been ashamed to remain idle while the others employed their time to such good purpose. So that everything went well at the farm; Guillot and his wife scolded Adeline because she worked too much, and forbade Jacques to do so large a share of the work. But no heed was paid to them, and they had the agreeable certainty that they were not a burden to the worthy peasants. Several months passed thus, without bringing any change in the situation of the people at the farm. Adeline would have been content with her lot, if she could sometimes have heard from her husband; for she still loved the man who had wrecked her life, and the memory of Edouard constantly disturbed her repose. “What is he doing now?” she would ask herself each day; and the thought that Dufresne was with him added to her unhappiness and redoubled her anxiety. Often she formed the plan of going to Paris to make inquiries concerning her husband’s conduct; but she was afraid of offending Jacques, who, being bitterly angry with his brother, did not wish to hear his name mentioned, and had begged Adeline never to talk to him about Edouard. Jacques feigned an indifference which he was far from feeling. In secret he thought of his brother, and he would have given anything in the world to know that he had repented of his errors, and to have him return and beg for a forgiveness which was already accorded him. So Adeline and Jacques concealed from each other the thoughts that engrossed them, because each of them feared to distress the other by renewing the memory of his or her grief. Sans-Souci was the confidant of them both; Guillot sometimes had errands to be done in Paris, either to sell his grain, or to buy things that were needed at the farm; it was always Sans-Souci who was sent, because Jacques refused to go, lest he should meet his brother. But every time that Sans-Souci was to pay a visit to the capital, Adeline took him aside and begged him to ascertain what her husband was doing; Jacques dared not give the same commission to his comrade, but he would overtake Sans-Souci a little way from the farm, stop him a moment and say in an undertone: