And so it happened that le tout petit Loup must
root deeply in the anxious heart of his mother. He
who was ailing and weak in all else was yet lusty
when it came to his need of Marie; and she feeling
this need as he lay at her breast or whimpered because
his small limbs were aching — she feeling this urgent
and ruthless need, rallied all her maternal strength
to meet it. If Christophe was the apple of his mother's
eye, le tout petit Loup was the fruit of her compassion.
And because of the care which she lavished upon
him, a care that was selfless and well-nigh unceasing,
he actually lived, le tout petit Loup, and became
almost reconciled to existence. Strong, as Christophe
was strong, he would never be, but one morning the
doctor was more reassuring:
'Give him time and his troubles should pass away.
He will not grow so fast as your other son, still, I
think we shall see him grow into a man.5
cMaythe Golden Saints be blessed!3 exclaimed Marie.
And that same afternoon she went to the church where
she lighted many candles for the ailing child, and left
them to plead at the shrine of his Patron.
§3
The spring had given place to the summer which, in
its turn, had given place to the autumn; then had come
the winter with its turbulent mistral, to be followed by
spring, and yet once more by summer. Christophe
and his cousin Jan grew apace, both in stature and
in their marked mutual affection. At two years old
they would cry for each other, resenting, it seemed,
their enforced separation. Indeed they were tiresome
enough at times, and inclined to wear on the nerves
of their parents.
There was little to mark the passing of the days
during that semi-tropical weather when the heat
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