There was, moreover, a little change for the better in her position. Monsieur Deshoulieres had noticed that she looked ill and worn, and was not long in pointing out the fact to Mme. Roulleau. "You are sure that Mademoiselle Veuillot has all that she requires?" he asked, gravely. Madame Roulleau had not much difficulty in satisfying him; men are slow to suspect cruelty on the part of one woman to another, and he was not suspicious. He thought that she had been fretting, very likely staying too much in the house during the cold weather, wanting occupation. Was there no one to whom she might go for relaxation and society? Madame assured him that it was mademoiselle's own choice that she confined herself to their own family. "She assists me in the _menage_, and I am rejoiced that she should teach the children when she is disposed. Poor mademoiselle! her teaching is not much, as monsieur may suppose. But, after all, it gives her occupation, and no one can be happy when they are idle. And they are such excellent children! They have such good hearts! As for my little Adolphe, he adores her!" This was a very rose-coloured account, but it contained nothing to make M. Deshoulieres doubt. He felt himself, poor fellow, something of the value of occupation just then. It was a little hard to go through the daily round of sadnesses, complaints, pain; but, after all, they lightened the load on his heart. He gave Madame Roulleau two or three injunctions which made her very uneasy lest he should ask questions from Therese, and lose the formidable character with which, she had invested him. She went home on the day on which she met him, in a great hurry, and embraced Therese. "You want distraction, mademoiselle; you are looking quite pale, you undertake too much. I shall be obliged to forbid your assisting me in these little things,"--the girl began to think that her toil must really be voluntary, madame's words were so decided.