In July, 1823, Maurice was born, her beloved son, he who was to be the comfort and joy of her life in all its troubles, and in whom the mother was to find a compensation for the sorrows of the wife. From the time his son was born, Monsieur Dudevant seems to have neglected his wife; he was of a rather interfering disposition, and, moreover, given to the pleasures of hunting, in pursuit of which he frequently left his wife as early as two or three o'clock in the morning. The young wife, whose health was not robust, and whose disposition led her to desire the society of her husband, at first mildly reproached him for his absence, but the effect was only momentary; happily, the joys of motherhood consoled her, at least for a time, and matters progressed placidly. The seclusion of the life at Nohant was first interrupted in 1824, when a visit was made to Paris and to the home of the Duplessises. Later, in 1825, a journey was taken to some of the watering-places in the Pyrenees, where it was hoped Madame Dudevant's health would be reëstablished, and by means of which the young wife also hoped to bring about a change in her husband's habits. To this trip, which was to be made more entertaining by the company of two friends of her convent life, Madame Dudevant looked with eager interest; for, in a letter to Madame Dupin, written in June, 1825, she says: "I shall be most happy at once more seeing the Pyrenees, which I scarcely remember, but which everybody describes as offering incomparably lovely scenery." The stay of a few months among the mountains proved of great physical benefit to Madame Dudevant. In her letters to her mother, she describes with almost childish glee the excursions she made, the daring feats she undertook, and the beauty of the scenery. But the hope of changed manners on the part of her husband was not realized; his treatment on their return continued as before; when not engaged in his favorite pastime of hunting, he indulged in the pleasures of the table. The duties of a mother and a housewife now seemed to absorb Madame Dudevant's thoughts; yet, while outwardly calm and dignified, the experience she was gaining of conjugal life, which had destroyed all her illusions, was establishing her views on the relations of husband and wife and formulating her ideal of satisfied love. It cannot be doubted that her earlier works, especially _Indiana_, are the pathetic and passionate voice of her soul, long silenced by her obligations as wife and mother; for in a letter to Madame Dupin, written in May, 1831, Madame Dudevant writes: "I cannot bear even the shadow of coercion; that is my principal defect. All that is imposed on me as a duty grows detestable to me; what I can do without any interference, I do whole-heartedly."