“Faith, no,” said Nicole; “you never mentioned those things, and we didn’t think they were necessary, especially as Chérubin is going to be very rich; we didn’t think there was any need of his learning a trade.”
“It isn’t a question of learning a trade, but of becoming a scholar.”
“Ah yes! I understand, like the schoolmaster, who always stuffs his conversation full of words that nobody knows what they mean.”
“That’s the very thing. Oh! if Chérubin could say some of those fine sentences that no one can understand, that would be splendid.—So you have a learned schoolmaster in this village, have you?”
“To be sure,—Monsieur Gérondif.”
“Gérondif! the name alone indicates a very learned man. Do you think he would consent to come to your house and give my young master lessons? For it is impossible for monsieur le marquis to go to school with all the young brats in the village.”
“Why shouldn’t Monsieur Gérondif come here? He has educated two or three children for people who come to Gagny to pass the summer. Besides, he ain’t very well fixed, the dear man, and to earn a little money——”
“There is no difficulty about that; I will pay him whatever he asks. Do you suppose that I could talk—that I could see this Monsieur Gérondif?”
“That’s easy enough; Jacquinot will go and fetch him. It’s after five o’clock, so his school is over. Jacquinot, you will find the schoolmaster at Manon the baker’s, because he goes there every day to bake potatoes in her oven while it’s still hot.”
“Go, my dear Jacquinot; bring me this scholar, and then we will empty a few bottles; I will treat Monsieur Gérondif too.”