ering the
living-room, where Eugenie and her mother had hastily resumed their
seats and were sewing with trembling hands, after wiping their eyes.
"But that young man is good for nothing; his head is more taken up with
the dead than with his money."

Eugenie shuddered as she heard her father's comment on the most sacred
of all griefs. From that moment she began to judge him. Charles's sobs,
though muffled, still sounded through the sepulchral house; and his deep
groans, which seemed to come from the earth beneath, only ceased towards
evening, after growing gradually feebler.

"Poor young man!" said Madame Grandet.

Fatal exclamation! Pere Grandet looked at his wife, at Eugenie, and at
the sugar-bowl. He recollected the extraordinary breakfast prepared for
the unfortunate youth, and he took a position in the middle of the room.

"Listen to me," he said, with his usual composure. "I hope that you
will not continue this extravagance, Madame Grandet. I don't give you MY
money to stuff that young fellow with sugar."

"My mother had nothing to do with it," said Eugenie; "it was I who--"

"Is it because you are of age," said Grandet, interrupting his daughter,
"that you choose to contradict me? Remember, Eugenie--"

"Father, the son of your brother ought to receive from us--"

"Ta, ta, ta, ta!" exclaimed the cooper on four chromatic tones; "the son
of my brother this, my nephew that! Charles is nothing at all to us; he
hasn't a farthing, his father has failed; and when this dandy has cried
his fill, off he goes from here. I won't have him revolutionize my
household."

"What is 'failing,' father?" asked Eugenie.

"To fail," answered her father, "is to commit the most dishonorable
action that can disgrace a man."

"It must be a great sin," said Madame Grandet, "and our brother may be
damned."

"There, there, don't begin with your litanies!" said Grandet, shrugging
his shoulders. "To fail, Eugenie," he resumed, "is to commit a theft
which the law, unfortunately, takes under its protection. People have
given their property to Guillaume Grandet trusting to his reputation for
honor and integrity; he has made away with it all, and left them nothing
but their eyes to weep with. A highway robber is better than a bankrupt:
the one attacks you and you can defend yourself, he risks his own life;
but the other--in short, Charles is dishonored."

The words rang in the poor girl's heart and weighed it down with their
heavy me