# Nêne/Part 1/Chapter 3
### CHAPTER III

THE woman who had come in by the day had gone. Madeleine was alone in the house with the children. Ten o'clock struck. It was time to think of getting dinner. She lighted the fire and hung up the kettle.
The little girl, Lalie, seated in a corner near the table, eyed her curiously.
"What is your name?" asked Madeleine.
"Lalie," answered the little one.
She was about four years old; a pretty child, with black eyes and curly locks, but dirty and dressed like a little old woman in a tight waist and a wide gathered skirt.
"Will you give me a kiss, Lalie?"
The child began to twist her skirt and looked down, smiling.
"Won't you give me a kiss? You needn't be afraid. Do you like sugar almonds, Lalie?"
Madeleine drew a small paper bag out of her pocket.
"Take it! It's for you."
The child kept on twisting her skirt.
"Take it, Lalie, take it!—Why, dear, here it is, just waiting for you to take! Come on!"
Lalie burst into sobs.
"There, now," thought Madeleine. "Isn't she shy, though! It is because I don't know what to say to her. What can I say to the poor little thing?"
She emptied out the almonds on the table within reach of the child and turned away puzzled.
Then she went to the cradle. Drawing back the curtain, she saw a little round head, two plump cheeks. This one, surely, was as beautiful as an Infant Jesus. On the coverlet his little hand lay half curled, white on the back and rosy inside.
Madeleine bent over him and with her work-hardened finger touched the delicate palm that reminded her of a very fine onion skin. There! The tiny hand closed tight. And he held on, the little fellow! He squeezed, he pulled!—How ever could he squeeze as hard as that?
Madeleine tried to free her finger, but no use! Well,—there she was, caught; what was she to do? If she pulled away brusquely, he would wake up.
She waited, schemed, tried to slip away slyly, little by little. Ah, you would, would you? An upheaval under the bed clothes, a kick. The small fist was like a closed trap. You'll stay right here!
Madeleine dared not stir. She waited awhile, feeling very foolish. Her cheeks burned, her legs shook. If anybody should come, he'd ask her what she was doing there, leaning over the cradle. Time passed; was she going to make the men wait for their dinner, the very first day?
No! … The baby waked up and immediately began to cry. She picked him up quickly.
He looked at her for a minute, ran his hands over her unfamiliar face, and then, reassured, began to babble and play. He pinched Madeleine's nose, jabbed at her eyes, pulled her hair. He arched his little body, threw himself forward, and plump!—bumped his head against her, with his baby mouth agape.
Eleven o'clock! It couldn't be so late!
Quickly Madeleine sat the baby on a folded blanket on the floor and ran to her work.
When Corbier came in with the farm hands, an hour later, he found the two children in a happy mood and the table nicely set.
Madeleine, who was kneeling beside Jo, rose to her feet and stood up straight before the farmer, a little flushed, and astonished to find him so young.
He spoke a few words of welcome to her and sat down at the table. He thought her plain, but straightforward and gentle.
"Maybe," he thought, "this one will lend her arms to my house and her heart to my children."
The mere thought of it comforted him; and, helping himself to a plateful of soup, he ate it with great relish.