"Here
are the troops passing!" folks would jestingly exclaim, implying that
nothing could resist those Froments, that the whole countryside was
theirs by right of conquest, since every two years their number
increased. And this time, at the expiration of those last two years it
was again to a daughter, Marguerite, that Marianne gave birth. For a
while she remained in a feverish condition, and there were fears, too,
that she might be unable to nurse her infant as she had done all the
others. Thus, when Mathieu saw her erect once more and smiling, with her
dear little Marguerite at her breast, he embraced her passionately, and
triumphed once again over every sorrow and every pang. Yet another child,
yet more wealth and power, yet an additional force born into the world,
another field ready for to-morrow's harvest!
And 'twas ever the great work, the good work, the work of fruitfulness
spreading, thanks to the earth and thanks to woman, both victorious over
destruction, offering fresh means of subsistence each time a fresh child
was born, and loving, willing, battling, toiling, even amid suffering,
and ever tending to increase of life and increase of hope.
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