She thought only of her own flesh and blood. Without hesitation, unconsciously, she abandoned the other--the child of adoption. She claimed the safety of her daughter as a debt. “What has she to fear?” asked Jeanne, bitterly. “She triumphs, as she is his wife.” “If he were to abandon her,” said the mother with anguish. Then, reflecting: “Still, he has sworn to me that he loved her.” “He lied!” cried Jeanne, with rage. “He wanted Micheline for her fortune!” “But why that?” inquired Madame Desvarennes, menacingly. “Is she not pretty enough to have pleased him? Do you think that you are the only one to be loved?” “If I had been rich he would have married me!”, replied Jeanne, exasperated. She had risen in revolt. They were treading too heavily on her. With a ferocious cry of triumph; she added: “The night he used his influence with me to get me to marry Cayrol, he assured me so on his word of honor!” “Honor!” ironically repeated Madame Desvarennes, overwhelmed. “How he has deceived us all! But what can I do? What course can I take? A separation? Micheline would not consent. She loves him.” And, in an outburst of fury, she cried: “Is it possible that that stupid girl loves that worthless dandy? And she has my blood in her veins! If she knew the truth she would die!” “Am I dead?” asked Jeanne, gloomily. “You have an energetic nature,” retorted the mistress, compassionately; “but she is so weak, so gentle! Ah! Jeanne, think what I have been to you; raise some insurmountable barrier between yourself and Serge! “Go back to your husband. You would not go with him a little while ago. It was folly. If you separate from Cayrol, you will not be able to keep away Serge, and you will take my daughter’s husband from her!” “Ah! you think only of her! Her, always! She above all!” cried Jeanne, with rage. “But me, I exist, I count, I have the right to be protected, of being happy! And you wish me to sacrifice myself, to give myself up to this man, whom I do not love, and who terrifies me?” This time the question was plainly put. Madame Desvarennes became herself. She straightened her figure, and in her commanding voice whose authority no one resisted, said: “What then? You wish to be separated from him? To regain your liberty at the price of scandal? And what liberty? You will be repulsed, disdained. Believe me, impose silence on your heart and listen to your reason. Your husband is a good, loyal man. If you cannot love him, he will command your respect. In marrying him, you have entered into engagements toward him. Fulfil them; it is your duty.” Jeanne felt overpowered and vanquished. “But what will my life be?” she groaned. “That of an honest woman,” replied Madame Desvarennes, with true grandeur. “Be a wife; God will make you a mother, and you will be saved.”