"Dear, dear wife," said Mathieu, "how good and brave you are, and how I
love you!"
"Yes, yes, I am very happy," she faltered, "and I must try to give you
back all the love that you give me."
Ah! that room of battle and victory, it seemed radiant with triumphant
glory. Elsewhere was death, darkness, shame, and crime, but here holy
suffering had led to joy and pride, hope and trustfulness in the coming
future. One single being born, a poor bare wee creature, raising the
faint cry of a chilly fledgeling, and life's immense treasure was
increased and eternity insured. Mathieu remembered one warm balmy spring
night when, yonder at Chantebled, all the perfumes of fruitful nature had
streamed into their room in the little hunting-box, and now around him
amid equal rapture he beheld the ardent sunlight flaring, chanting the
poem of eternal life that sprang from love the eternal.
VII
"I TELL you that I don't need Zoe to give the child a bath," exclaimed
Mathieu half in anger. "Stay in bed, and rest yourself!"
"But the servant must get the bath ready," replied Marianne, "and bring
you some warm water."
She laughed as if amused by the dispute, and he ended by laughing also.
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