Marianne kissed Geneviève de Trémont, and, lowering her head, so as not to see Marcel, followed her father and Agostini. As she passed in front of Graff she heard him say—
“Ten thousand francs’ worth of prayers! At a franc per villainous trick he has committed he loses nothing!”
The old man had not time to further exhibit his bad temper, for Marcel interrupted him—
“Not so loud, Uncle Graff; his daughter might hear you. Poor child; it is not her fault!”
Marianne felt sad at heart, and, more afflicted at the nephew’s humiliating indulgence towards herself than at his uncle’s scorn for her father, she left the room.
Since his return to Paris, Marcel had been restored to the good graces of M. Baradier. Graff’s story of the conflagration at the works, and the rescue effected by his nephew, had touched the old man’s heart. The danger incurred by his brother-in-law, Cardez, and Baudoin, had made him quiver with anxiety; the intervention of his son at the critical moment, when even the bravest among the workmen drew back from the danger, had aroused his enthusiasm. He had taken Marcel in his arms, and said to Madame Baradier and Amélie, who were sitting there in tears—
“You seem quite astonished. Did you think this child, on account of a few silly escapades, was not a fine and brave fellow, after all? For my part I was sure, if the opportunity occurred, he would act as nobly as he has done! It is because I knew what he was capable of that I treated him harshly when he went astray. But, after all, he is a Baradier!”
The same evening, alone with his wife, he said—
“Indeed, I am very well pleased with Marcel. Graff has told me things concerning him which have touched me very much. I am beginning to hope that, once the passion and giddiness of youth is over, he will turn out a remarkable man. All he lacks is a certain amount of order. But that will come in time. He is both intelligent and warm-hearted. Now, it is time he thought of marrying.”
“He is only twenty-five years of age.”