She did not at first miss so
much the life of excitement, of danger, of intrigue, of romance, of
colour and variety, which she had left behind in Spain. When her child
was born, she became passionately fond of it; her maternal spirit
smothered it. It gave the needed excitement in the routine of life at
St. Saviour's.
Yet the interest was not permanent. There came a time when she resented
the fact that Jean Jacques made more of the child than he did of herself.
That was a bad day for all concerned, for dissimulation presently became
necessary, and the home of Jean Jacques was a home of mystery which no
philosophy could interpret. There had never been but the one child. She
was not less handsome than when Jean Jacques married her and brought her
home, though the bloom of maiden youthfulness was no longer there; and
she certainly was a cut far above the habitant women or even the others
of a higher social class, in a circle which had an area equal to a
principality in Europe.
The old cure, M. Langon, had had much influence over her, for few could
resist the amazing personal influence which his rare pure soul secured
over the worst.
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