“Really, Flaubert, I wish to Heaven you’d do it yourself!” said Jean impulsively. “The other day I heard you tell one of the pupils that a mistake in the account was my fault, and you know I never make them out at all!”
Flaubert put his arm genially on the young man’s shoulder.
“My dear boy,” he said. “I apologize a thousand times. I had to get rid of him, and to tell the truth I hadn’t time for a fight. Madame had just sent for me. You came into my head, and I made a scapegoat of you. I apologize profoundly.”
Jean drew away from the insinuating arm.
“I should be very glad if you would give me your word that it doesn’t happen again!” he said curtly.
Louis laughed nervously.
“I will give you my word, of course, if you want it, my dear boy,” he said. “But really, you know, you’ll never learn business at this rate.”
“I’m afraid I must insist,” said Jean.
Flaubert shook his head roguishly. “I give you my word, then,” he said; “but I don’t know what Madame would say if she heard me; she believes in a silent partner, does Madame.”
“But Madame has nothing to do with business?” exclaimed Jean.