When Rougon consented, and the three youngsters had entered the eighth class, Felicite felt the most lively satisfaction she had ever experienced.

She listened with delight as they talked of their professors and their studies.

When she heard her eldest son make one of his brothers decline _Rosa, a rose_, it sounded like delicious music to her.

It is only fair to add that her delight was not tarnished by any sordid calculations.

Even Rougon felt the satisfaction which an illiterate man experiences on perceiving his sons grow more learned than himself.