shine and where no birds fluttered. Not that there had ever been between him and that big fellow whom he had called Trooper anything but the ordinary exchange of good will; and as for this Madeleine who was to be his servant now, he hardly knew her.
No, these people had nothing to do with his sorrow; but they brought home to him the burden he had to bear.
A widower at thirty, he found himself alone with a farm to manage and two babies on his hands. Of course, he still had his father with him, but the old man was so often crippled with rheumatism that he was rather a drag than a help. There was no one to lend a hand, little ready money, and no one to run the house.
His worries began eleven months ago: to him it seemed eleven years. At first he had hired an elderly woman to keep house for him. She was very good and gentle with the babies, but untidy and absolutely incapable of running the house. Then came his sister-in-law, efficient enough, but frivolous, hard and, worst of all, obviously and boldly intent on catching him. She had to go, after an unpleasant scene.
Now his father had hired this Madeleine Clarandeau.
Corbier knew the family. The mother, a widow on the threshold of old age, worked out by the day.
