Springing down from the carriage, she ran toward the children, took one
of the two youngest--a Tuvache child--and lifting it up in her
arms, she kissed him passionately on his dirty cheeks, on his tousled
hair daubed with earth, and on his little hands, with which he fought
vigorously, to get away from the caresses which displeased him.

Then she got into the carriage again, and drove off at a lively trot. But
she returned the following week, and seating herself on the ground, took
the youngster in her arms, stuffed him with cakes; gave candies to all
the others, and played with them like a young girl, while the husband
waited patiently in the carriage.

She returned again; made the acquaintance of the parents, and reappeared
every day with her pockets full of dainties and pennies.

Her name was Madame Henri d'Hubieres.

One morning, on arriving, her husband alighted with her, and without
stopping to talk to the children, who now knew her well, she entered the
farmer's cottage.

They were busy chopping wood for the fire. They rose to their feet in
surprise, brought forward chairs, and waited expectantly.

Then the woman, in a broken, trembling voice, began:

"My good people, I have come to see you, because I should like--I
should like to take--your little boy with me--"