Laurent when he arrived on the Place d’Armes in front of his mother’s house. This house, large and spacious, with a garden looking out on the open countryside, added to the social importance of Madame Moreau, who was the most respected lady in the district.

She came from an old noble family, of which the male line was now extinguished. Her husband, of plebeian origin whom her parents forced her to marry, was killed by the thrust of a sword, during her pregnancy, leaving her an estate much in debt. She received visitors three times a week, and from time to time, gave fashionable dinners. But the number of wax candles was calculated beforehand, and she looked forward with some impatience to the payment of her rents. Such embarrassments, concealed as if there were some guilt attached to them, imparted a certain seriousness to her character. Nevertheless, without prudery, or sourness, she practiced her virtue. Her most trifling acts of charity seemed like generous alms-giving. She was consulted about the selection of servants, the education of young girls, and the art of making preserves, and Monseigneur used to stay at her house on the occasion of his episcopal visitations.

Madame Moreau cherished lofty ambitions for her son. Through a sort of anticipatory prudence, she did not care to hear the Government criticized. He would need patronage at the start; then, with its aid, he might become a councillor of State, an ambassador, a minister. His triumphs at the college of Sens warranted this proud anticipation; he had carried off there the prize of honour.

When he entered the drawing-room, all present rose noisily to their feet; he was embraced; and the chairs, large and small, were drawn up in a big semi-circle around the fireplace. M. Gamblin immediately asked him his opinion about Madame Lafarge.4 This case, the sensation of the day, did not fail to lead to a heated discussion. Madame Moreau stopped it, much to the regret, however, of M. Gamblin. He deemed it useful to the young man as a future lawyer, and, annoyed at what had occurred, he left the drawing-room.

Coming from a friend of Père Roque, nothing would have surprised them. The reference to Père Roque led them to talk of M. Dambreuse, who had just become the owner of the La Fortelle estate. But the tax-collector had drawn Frédéric aside to know what he thought of M. Guizot’s latest work.a They were all anxious to get some information about his private affairs, and Madame Benoit cleverly inquired about his uncle with that objective in mind. How was that worthy relative? They no longer heard from him. Had he not a distant cousin in America?

The cook announced that Monsieur’s soup was served. The guests discreetly withdrew. Then, as soon as they were alone in the dining-room, his mother said to him in a low tone:

“Well?”

The old man had received him in a very cordial manner, but without disclosing his intentions.

Madame Moreau sighed.

“Where is she now?” he mused dreamily.

The carriage was rolling along the road, and, wrapped up in the shawl, no doubt, she was leaning against the cloth upholstery, her beautiful head nodding off to sleep.

Frédéric and his mother were just going up to their rooms when a waiter from the Swan of the Cross brought him a note.

“What is that, pray?”

“It is Deslauriers, who needs me,” said he.

“Ah! your old chum!” said Madame Moreau, with a disapproving laugh. “He picks his time well, I must say!”

Frédéric hesitated. But friendship was stronger. He got his hat.

“At least don’t be long!” said his mother to him.

CHAPTER II

Charles Deslauriers’ father, a former infantry officer, who had left the service in 1818, had come back to Nogent, where he had married, and with the amount of the dowry bought up the business of a process-server, which brought him barely enough to live on. Embittered by a long course of unjust treatment, suffering still from the effects of old wounds, and, still harking back to the days of the Emperor, he took out on those around him the rage that seemed to choke him. Few children received so many beatings as his son.