She had been at the farm six months, when a courier arrived with a package containing twenty-five louis and a note from the Comte de Montreville to the farmer and his wife. In the note, he once more commended the young woman to their care, and informed them that he would send them a like sum for her every six months. The farmer's wife lost no time in telling Sister Anne what Monsieur de Montreville had done for her, and the poor girl's eyes filled with tears of gratitude. "What an excellent man!" said the farmer's wife. "I was sure he wouldn't forget you. _Morgué!_ I tell you once more, if the fancy to go to Paris should take you again by and by, you must go to this gentleman's house right away. _Dame!_ my child, he's a count, you see, a nobleman, a powerful man. He seems to be very rich, too; and if your seducer's in Paris, he'll soon find him for you; and perhaps he'll give him such good advice that he'll induce him not to leave you again." Sister Anne signified that she agreed with the farmer's wife, and that she would do all that she suggested. Then she compelled her to accept the money sent by the count, and was much happier in the thought that she was not a burden to the good people who treated her so kindly. The weeks and months passed. Sister Anne fairly idolized her son. He filled the place of all that she had lost; in him, she saw once more the brother who was so dear to her, and whose death caused her such a fatal shock; she saw Frédéric too; his features were reproduced in his son's. She sought to anticipate the child's slightest desires; she watched his glance, his smile; and her touching devotion made the time since she had seen her lover, and that which was still to pass before she could hope to see him again, seem less long to her. Little Frédéric promised to have the beauty and the sweet temper of her who gave him life; he had already learned to lisp that name which is so sweet to a mother's ear, and Sister Anne realized how essential it was that he should not be deprived of the care and thought that were so freely bestowed on him at the farm. If he knew no one but her, the poor child would never speak; for speech is an art in which a teacher is necessary. The count sent a second remittance at the time he had fixed. His messenger inquired concerning the dumb girl's condition and the health of her child, and urged Sister Anne not to leave the farm, where she led a peaceful life and could devote all her care to her son. But Sister Anne did not renounce her desire to go to Paris. Despite the remonstrances of the farmer's wife, she was determined to resort to every means of finding Frédéric. Her love for her son did not lessen her regret at her separation from her lover; on the contrary, it seemed that, as she contemplated the child's beauty, she felt a most intense longing to present him to his father.