"A friend of mine, a young man named Dubourg, of an old Breton family, is also making arrangements to travel for some time. If you are willing, I will join forces with him."
"No, monsieur; I am not willing. I have heard of this Monsieur Dubourg, whom you call your friend, and, although I have seen him with you only two or three times, I know enough of him to be unwilling that he should be my son's travelling companion. His family is respectable, I know, but Monsieur Dubourg is a great reprobate, they say."
"I promise you, father——"
"Don't interrupt me, monsieur. I cannot prevent your associating in Paris with such light-headed characters; but when you are to travel for your instruction, and to mature your judgment, I tell you again that a Monsieur Dubourg is not a proper person for you to travel with. I don't propose that you shall take Germain either; that fellow has been behaving badly for some time. Besides, when you are travelling you should be able to do without a valet. With your money, you will find servants enough wherever you stop."
"Am I to go alone, then, father?"
"No; you are not twenty-one yet; you are too young to be left to your own devices. Stay—yes—he's the very man you need: Monsieur Ménard will go with you."
"What, monsieur le comte, my tutor?"
"He hasn't been that for a long time, and he will not go with you in that capacity, my son, but as a friend, a judicious adviser. Monsieur Ménard is an educated man, and, in addition to that, is the mildest and most patient of men. You know him well enough, I think, not to regret having him for your travelling companion. Monsieur Ménard is not a mere pedant who will constantly reprove you for enjoying yourself; he is attached to you, and he will be able, I trust, to prevent the son of the Comte de Montreville from forgetting what he owes to himself."
"Enough. I will write to Monsieur Ménard; if he accepts, as I think he will, you can set out to-morrow."