that,
I shall turn her out of doors." But she, who feared nothing; seemed to
be afraid of the old servant, and Parent attributed her mildness to her
consideration for the old domestic who had brought him up, and who had
closed his mother's eyes. Now, however, it was finished, matters could
not go on like that much longer, and he was frightened at the idea of
what was going to happen. What could he do? To get rid of Julie seemed
to him to be such a formidable thing to do, that he hardly ventured to
think of it, but it was just as impossible to uphold her against his
wife, and before another month now, the situation would become
unbearable between the two. He remained sitting there, with his arms
hanging down, vaguely trying to discover some means to set matters
straight, but without success, and he said to himself: "It is only lucky
that I have George ... without him I should be very miserable."

Then he thought he would consult Limousin, but the recollection of the
hatred that existed between his friend and the servant made him fear
lest the former should advise him to turn her away, and again he was
lost in doubts and unhappy uncertainty. Just then the clock struck
seven, and he started up. Seven o'clock, and he had not even changed his
clothes yet! Then nervous and breathless, he undressed, put on a clean
shirt, and hastily finished his toilet, as if he had been expected in
the next room for some event of extreme importance, went into the
drawing-room, happy at having nothing to fear. He glanced at the
newspaper, went and looked out of the window, and then sat down on the
sofa again, when the door opened, and the boy came in, washed, brushed
and smiling, and Parent took him up in his arms and kissed him
passionately; then he tossed him into the air, and held him up to the
ceiling, but soon sat down again, as he was tired with all his efforts,
and taking George onto his knee, he made him ride a cock-horse, and the
child laughed and clapped his hands, and shouted with pleasure, as his
father did also, for he laughed until his big stomach shook, for it
amused him almost more than it did the child.

He loved him with all the heart of a weak, resigned, ill-used man. He
loved with mad bursts of affection, with caresses and with all the
bashful tenderness which was hidden in him, and which had never found an
outlet, even at the early period of his married life, for his wife had
always shown herself cold and reserved. Just