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Updated: June 28, 2025
Then, as Guillaume made a further attempt to state his views and win her over to them, she rose trembling, in such a passion that she could scarcely stammer: "No, no, you are all too cruel, you only want to grieve me. I prefer to go up into my own room." At this Mere-Grand vainly sought to restrain her.
Mere-Grand, fortunately, was still there, erect and courageous; the household retained its queen, and in her the children found a manageress and teacher, schooled in adversity and heroism. Two years passed; and then came an addition to the family. A young woman, Marie Couturier, the daughter of one of Guillaume's friends, suddenly entered it.
However, it all irritated him beyond endurance; and he therefore again pretended that he had a number of things to see to in Paris. He shook hands in turn with the young men, Mere-Grand and Marie; both of the women evincing great friendliness but also some surprise at his haste to leave the house.
And there was also the smiling heroism of Mere-Grand and Marie, those two women who slept over that laboratory where terrible preparations were manipulated, and where an explosion was always possible. However, such courage, orderliness and dignity merely surprised Pierre, without touching him.
He shuddered and stammered in momentary expectation of a catastrophe which would hurl the work-shop to the heavens. "Mere-Grand, Mere-Grand," he stammered. "The apparatus, the tap... it is all over, all over!" The old woman had raised her head without as yet understanding him. "Eh, what?" said she; "what is the matter with you?"
In the midst of the chatter, Mere-Grand, who presided at table with the serene dignity of a queen-mother, leant towards Guillaume, who sat next to her, and spoke to him in an undertone. Pierre understood that she was referring to his marriage, which was to have taken place in April, but must now necessarily be deferred.
"Come in, Pierre," called Guillaume; "shake hands with these young men." The priest had remained near the door, overcome by a singular feeling of discomfort. When his nephews had vigorously shaken hands with him, he sat down near the window apart from them, as if he felt out of his element there. "Well, youngsters," said Guillaume, "where's Mere-Grand, and where's Marie?"
However, there was the great difference of ages to be considered; and he would have bravely remained in the background and have sought a younger husband for Marie, if his three big sons and Mere-Grand herself had not conspired to effect his happiness by doing all they could to bring about a marriage which would strengthen every home tie and impart, as it were, a fresh springtide to the house.
At that moment it so happened that Mere-Grand came down with a lamp, which lighted up the room, and thereupon they hurried to the help of the wretched woman, who lay there as pale as a corpse in her flimsy black gown. And this again brought Pierre an indescribable heart-pang. Ah! the poor, sad, suffering creature!
For another moment Mere-Grand continued scrutinising Guillaume; then she once more reverted to her sewing. If she exercised such sway over the home and all its inmates, it was by reason of her long devotion, her intelligence, and the kindliness with which she ruled.
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