She imagined that she had discovered in him his father’s noble qualities; that the sensitiveness which is so easily wounded was expressed in his every word and action.
She anxiously wondered if he would ever accept the least assistance from her. The Marquis of Clameran quieted her doubts on this point.
She had frequently met him since the day on which he had so frightened her, and to her first aversion had succeeded a secret sympathy. She felt kindly toward him for the affection he lavished on her son.
If Raoul, with the heedlessness of youth, mocked at the future, Louis, the man of the world, looked upon it with different eyes. He was anxious for the welfare of his nephew, and constantly complained of the idle life he was now leading.
One day, after praising the attractive qualities of Raoul, he said:
“This pleasant life is very well, as long as it lasts; but people cannot live upon air, and, as my handsome nephew has no fortune, it would be only prudent for us to procure him some employment.”
“Ah, my dear uncle, do let me enjoy my present happiness. What is the use of any change? What do I want?”
“You want for nothing at present, Raoul; but when your resources are exhausted, and mine, too—which will be in a short time—what will become of you?”
“Bast! I will enter the army. All the Clamerans are born soldiers; and if a war comes——”
Mme. Fauvel laid her hand upon his lips, and said in a tone of reproachful tenderness: