As to this "admirable son," he was as stupid as he was big and awkward, which is saying a great deal. Mme. Bricourt soon recognized his lack of refinement and intellect, and, by a stroke of genius, dubbed him "My admirable son." This title imposed on her friends as she expected, and, seeing its success, Amable adopted the same tone in speaking of his mother; so that soon "the venerable Mme. Bricourt" became an established authority on all subjects.
She was peacefully reading by the window this afternoon, when Corinne was announced. Mme. Descoutures was looking for an ally, still furious from her late discomfiture.
"You look as sweet as a peach, my dear child," said Mme. Bricourt, as they kissed each other. As soon as Mme. Bricourt discovered the faults and foibles of her friends, she knew how to play upon them as skillfully as a gypsy on her guitar. So she was always paying Corinne compliments on her beauty, or the wonderful amount of admiration she received; even going so far as to call her "my dear child." Could anything be more delicately flattering?
"What lucky chance brought you here to-day?"
"I am come to invite you to dine with us this evening."
"With the greatest pleasure."
"I hope your son will accompany you."
The face of "the venerable Mme. Bricourt" was shaded by an expression of sad resignation.
"You know, my dear child, that my son is such an admirable worker. From morning to night he is buried in his business, and I am afraid he will wear himself out before long. He left this morning for Toulon, to find an important reference in some book in the public library."