And brooding over her wretched existence, the idea of her husband’s death seems less revolting to her. “It would be still better if he killed me himself,” she inwardly declares; “I deserve it.” But a contemptuous smile (or is it a commiserating look?) from Savin serves to dispel all thoughts save those of hatred from her breast. [Illustration] CHAPTER VII. THE INVITATION. A merry little troop lined the way leading into the forest. Song and mirth echoed through the trees as the happy band tripped along the road, their object being to invite the Barraus to a wedding. In certain rural parts of France it is the custom for the engaged couple, their relatives and best friends to visit in a body those they desire to invite to the wedding, and the future bridegroom, if it be a woman addressed, or the future bride, if it be a man, offers sugar-plums, which if accepted signifies that the implied invitation to the wedding is likewise accepted. In refusing, one also refuses to be present at the wedding. Moreover, a solemn obligation is involved in the acceptance. Those who partake of the sweet almonds are expected not only to join in the festivities, but to furnish a wedding-gift. Eggs, game, fruit, vegetables, and articles of food are usually the principal presents received by the happy couple. The marriage of pretty little Suzanne Perrogon with Jacques Percier was about to be celebrated. Suzanne was the niece of Jeannille Marselon, whose strange character was referred to in the preceding chapter. Jacques owned a pretty little house and lot--an inheritance from his mother. In the contract he exacted the promise that his wife should engage herself formally, after the birth of her first child, as a wet-nurse in Paris, which is frequently done by the peasants of Morvan and of other sections. As a matter of fact, hundreds of marriage contracts contain such a provision.