“What must we do, doctor, to restore our child’s health?” “What must you do? Why give him a nurse, a good nurse, and send him into the country with her, and leave him there a long while, a very long while; that’s what you must do, and at once, this very day; you have no time to waste if you want to preserve the life of this child.” The tone in which the doctor spoke admitted no reply; luckily their love for the child was above all self-esteem, so they were fain to agree that they had done wrong, and to obey in all haste. The marquis sent all his people in search of a nurse. The marchioness herself went about among her acquaintances, asking for information and advice; but the time passed, and those who were well recommended could not be obtained at once. As evening approached, they had not succeeded in finding a nurse; the marchioness and her husband embraced their child and had no idea what to give him, as they dared not continue to feed him as they had been doing. Suddenly Jasmin appeared with a fresh, buxom, red-cheeked peasant woman, exclaiming: “I have found what we want, I think; if she doesn’t bring our little one back to life, faith, I will have nothing more to do with it.” The nurse whom Jasmin had brought had such an attractive face and seemed to enjoy such excellent health that they were prepossessed in her favor. Madame de Grandvilain uttered a joyful cry and handed her child to the peasant woman, who presented her bosom to him; he took it greedily, like one who had found what he needed. The marquis tapped Jasmin on the shoulder, saying: “You are an invaluable fellow! How did you go to work to discover this excellent nurse?” “How did I go to work, monsieur? Why, I just went to the office, on Rue Sainte-Apolline, and asked for a nurse; I saw nurses of all colors, and I chose this one. That’s all the difficulty there was about it.” What Jasmin had done was the simplest thing to do, but ordinarily the simplest thing is what nobody thinks of doing. Little Chérubin’s nurse was from Gagny, and as the doctor’s orders were definite, she returned to her village the next morning, carrying with her a superb layette, money, gifts, strict orders, and her little nursling. V THE VILLAGE OF GAGNY Gagny is a pretty village near Villemonble, of which it is a sort of continuation, and is a little nearer Paris than Montfermeil. When I say that it is a pretty village, I do not mean by that that the streets are very straight and well paved, and that all the houses have a uniform, comfortable, or even elegant aspect; in that case, it would resemble a small provincial town, and would not be the country with its picturesqueness and its freedom from constraint.