'Is there no hope, doctor?' she asked in a choking voice, as she
conducted him to the other room. The doctor was silent, and the
afflicted mother embraced her children and wept. After a pause she
said: 'There is one idea which haunts me continually: I should wish so
much to have my husband's likeness. Do you know of any generous and
clever artist, doctor? Oh, how much this would add to the many
obligations you have already laid me under!'
'Unfortunately, I am not acquainted with a single artist,' replied the
young doctor.
'I must then renounce this desire,' said Mme G---- sighing.
The next morning Henry--so the little boy was called--having assisted
his mother and his sister Marie in their household labours, dressed
himself carefully, and, as it was a holiday, asked leave to go out.
'Go, my child,' said his mother; 'go and breathe a little fresh air:
your continual work is injurious to you.'
The boy kissed his father's wasted hand, embraced his mother and
sister, and went out, at once sad and pleased.
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