She made up for it by keeping an open heart to all other children, whereby many gained through her loss, and her loss turned to gain even for herself.
When Rachel's boy came she made as much of him as if he had been her own.
And the two between them named him Philip Carre after his grandfather,--instinct, maybe, or possibly simply with the idea of pleasing the old man, whose heart had never come fully round to the marriage,--happily done, whatever the reason.
For Martel, outside business matters, which needed a clear head and all a man's wits about him unless he wanted to run himself and his cargoes into trouble, soon proved himself unstable as water.

The nature of his business tended to conviviality.

Successful runs were celebrated, and fresh ones planned, and occasional losses consoled, in broached kegs which cost little.

Success or failure found equal satisfaction in the flowing bowl, and no home happiness ever yet came out of a bung-hole.
Then, too, Rachel Carre had been brought up by her father in a simple, perhaps somewhat rigorous, faith, which in himself developed into Quakerism.

I have thought it not impossible that in that might be found some explanation of her action in marrying Paul Martel.