For a week past her elder
daughter Charlotte, Blaise's wife, had come to stay there with her
children, Berthe and Christophe, who needed change of air; and on the
previous evening they had been joined by Blaise, who was well pleased to
spend Sunday with them.
Madame Desvignes' younger daughter, Marthe, was delighted whenever her
sister thus came to spend a few weeks in the old home, bringing her
little ones with her, and once more occupying the room which had belonged
to her in her girlish days. All the laughter and playfulness of the past
came back again, and the one dream of worthy Madame Desvignes, amid her
pride at being a grandmamma, was of completing her life-work, hitherto so
prudently carried on, by marrying off Marthe in her turn. As a matter of
fact it had seemed likely that there might be three instead of two
weddings at Chantebled that spring. Denis, who, since leaving a
scientific school had embarked in fresh technical studies, often slept at
the farm and nearly every Sunday he saw Marthe, who was of the same age
as Rose and her constant companion. The young girl, a pretty blonde like
her sister Charlotte, but of a less impulsive and more practical nature,
had indeed attracted Denis, and, dowerless though she was, he had made up
his mind to marry her, since he had discovered that she possessed the
sterling qualities that help one on to fortune.
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