This man here," (pointing to Bertrand) "will explain to you that there are rivers and trees everywhere for miserable wretches who chatter of me." So saying the count advanced slowly to the bonesetter, pushed a chair noisily toward him, as if to invite him to sit down, as he did himself by the bedside; then he said to his wife in a specious voice:-- "Well, my pretty one, so we have a son; this is a joyful thing for us.
Do you suffer much ?" "No," murmured the countess.
The evident surprise of the mother, and the tardy demonstrations of pleasure on the part of the father, convinced Beauvouloir that there was some incident behind all this which escaped his penetration.

He persisted in his suspicion, and rested his hand on that of the young wife, less to watch her condition than to convey to her some advice.
"The skin is good, I fear nothing for madame.

The milk fever will come, of course; but you need not be alarmed; that is nothing." At this point the wily bonesetter paused, and pressed the hand of the countess to make her attentive to his words.
"If you wish to avoid all anxiety about your son, madame," he continued, "never leave him; suckle him yourself, and beware of the drugs of apothecaries.

The mother's breast is the remedy for all the ills of infancy.

I have seen many births of seven months' children, but I never saw any so little painful as this.