"Very good, Père Maurice," said Germain, "I will do what you wish, as I
always have done."

"I must do you the justice to say, my son, that you have always listened
to the friendship and sound arguments of the head of your family. So let
us talk over the matter of your choice of a new wife. In the first
place, I don't advise you to take a young woman. That isn't what you
need. Youth is fickle; and as it's a burden to bring up three children,
especially when they're the children of another marriage, what you must
have is a kind-hearted soul, wise and gentle, and used to hard work. If
your wife isn't about as old as yourself, she won't have sense enough to
accept such a duty. She will think you too old and your children too
young. She will complain, and your children will suffer."

"That is just what disturbs me," said Germain. "Suppose she should hate
the poor little ones, and they should be maltreated and beaten?"

"God forbid!" said the old man. "But evil-minded women are rarer in
these parts than good ones, and a man must be a fool not to be able to
put his hand on the one that suits him."

"True, father: there are some good girls in our village. There's Louise
and Sylvaine and Claudie and Marguerite--any one you please, in fact."

"Softly, softly, my boy, all those girls are too young or too poor--or
too pretty; for we must think of that, too, my son. A pretty woman isn't
always as steady as a plainer one."

"Do you want me to take an ugly one, pray?" said Germain, a little
disturbed.