“Why, look you, monsieur, the little fellow is our son, after all! If madame doesn’t give him enough to eat, we have the right to do as we please. Deuce take it! A man doesn’t have a child every day, and if you should have to try it over again, I think that----” “Yes, Jasmin, yes, I will be firm. As my heir’s welfare is at stake, I will show my strength of character.” And monsieur le marquis, rising from his couch, betook himself to his wife’s apartment, leaning on the arm of Jasmin, who repeated constantly on the way: “Give him wine to drink, monsieur, give him some good strong soups to eat, and I will bet that within a month he will have recovered his five ounces!” Madame de Grandvilain had not dared to confess to her husband that she had no milk to give their son; she had bought nursing bottles, and when the marquis was not there, the child was given the bottle; but as soon as his father arrived, she played nurse again, and little Chérubin was given a sterile bosom, which supplied him with no nourishment. When Monsieur de Grandvilain unexpectedly entered madame’s chamber, as she was not looking for her husband at that moment, she did not have time to put the bottle out of the way, and Chérubin was still attached to it. “What’s this, my dear love?” said monsieur le marquis, scrutinizing what his son was sucking. “My dear,” said madame, sorely confused, “it’s a supplement.” “A supplement! The deuce, my dear love, you use a supplement, and without letting me know?” “My dear, there are times when my milk doesn’t flow freely, and we must not let this dear little fellow suffer on that account.” “Certainly not, madame, but if you had only confessed to me sooner that you use a supplement, I, for my part, should not have hesitated to tell you that I wished to change our son’s diet. He is not making progress, marchioness, that is evident. I believe that milk is not what he needs. I am less surprised since I find that it is not yours. In short, I propose to try another method; I propose to give my son wine to drink.” “Wine, my dear! Can you think of such a thing! A child of three months!” “Who was magnificent when he came into the world, and who is visibly pining away with your bottle. I will give him claret, that is a mild and generous wine. If that works well, later we will try burgundy.” “But, monsieur, on the contrary, the very lightest things, ass’s milk, is what Chérubin needs!” “Ass’s milk for my son! Fie, madame! I will not listen to such a thing. Can it be that you would like to make an ass of him? He shall drink wine.” “He shall drink milk.” For the first time the husband and wife quarrelled, and neither of them would give way. Monsieur de Grandvilain took his son in his arms, carried him to his room, ordered Jasmin to bring a bottle of old claret, and gave some spoonfuls of it to his heir.