Little Roulleau was helpless under her inexorable will. His own sordid nature prompted him one way, while his cowardice held him back. He would have been a villain without his wife, but he would have dug underground, putting out all his little crafty resources, to fence himself round from discovery. She worked more boldly and for larger ventures. The imprudences she committed kept him in continual alarm. At the same time there was a fertility of resource, a vigour in her undertakings, of which he acknowledged the value, and which were strong enough to carry him along against his judgment. He remonstrated, but he had never sufficient power to resist. She swept away all his little terrified suggestions like a whirlwind. Ignace put on his yellow straw hat, took his thread gloves and his umbrella, and went obediently to the station. Madame was more polite that day to Therese than she had been for months. In the evening, Therese was sitting with the children, who were supposed to be preparing their lessons for the next day. Octavie, always upright and suggestive, was at the table, with a book open before her, on the alert, as usual, to snub Mademoiselle Veuillot or her brother, as the case might require. He was a very ugly little boy, with his baggy knickerbockers and cut-away jacket, and a closely cropped little head; but he was not so utterly detestable in Therese's eyes as Octavie. With all his obstinacy and provoking ways he was not a worldly, unnatural little being like her. He had not her patronising, superior ways; he was not always watching and spying. I am telling you what Therese thought, and it must be remembered that she was not in a patient mood at this time: she was eating the bread of poverty, and it was made very bitter. This evening Adolphe would not attend. He jumped up and down, upset his chair, danced about the room. "Mamma thinks that Adolphe already knows less of history than when he began it with you, mademoiselle," remarked Octavie, pleasantly. "I know more than you!" shouted Adolphe, indignant at this report, and still careering round the table. "I know more than you, and more than mademoiselle, and more than a great many people." Octavie lifted her arched eyebrows. "But yes, I do, and I could tell you about it, only I don't choose." "Adolphe!" said Therese, sharply, "I am waiting." "She always thinks that mamma tells her every thing," said Adolphe triumphantly, "but she does not. She is only a little girl, is she, mademoiselle? I know a great deal more." "Madame Barry never permitted Adolphe to misbehave himself, mademoiselle. It is only since you have been our governess," said Octavie, furiously. "She will not be our governess long," cried Adolphe, before Therese could speak, "if M. Saint-Martin is come." "Monsieur Saint-Martin!"