her he flung himself headforemost into the Seine after
committing a dishonorable action? He cannot now become a solicitor; do
you think him steady and wise enough to be a barrister? No. While
his reason is maturing, what will he become? A dissipated fellow. The
discipline of the army will, at least, preserve him from that."

"Could he not go into some other office? His uncle Cardot has promised
to pay for his substitute; Oscar is to dedicate his graduating thesis to
him."

At this moment carriage-wheels were heard, and a hackney-coach
containing Oscar and all his worldly belongings stopped before the door.
The luckless young man came up at once.

"Ah! here you are, Monsieur Joli-Coeur!" cried Clapart.

Oscar kissed his mother, and held out to Moreau a hand which the latter
refused to take. To this rebuff Oscar replied by a reproachful look, the
boldness of which he had never shown before. Then he turned on Clapart.

"Listen to me, monsieur," said the youth, transformed into a man. "You
worry my poor mother devilishly, and that's your right, for she is,
unfortunately, your wife. But as for me, it is another thing. I shall be
of age in a few months; and you have no rights over me even as a minor.
I have never asked anything of you. Thanks to Monsieur Moreau, I have
never cost you one penny, and I owe you no gratitude. Therefore, I say,
let me alone!"

Clapart, hearing this apostrophe, slunk back to his sofa in the chimney
corner. The reasoning and the inward fury of the young man, who had just
received a lecture from his friend Godeschal, silenced the imbecile mind
of the sick man.

"A momentary temptation, such as you yourself would have yielded to
at my age," said Oscar to Moreau, "has made me commit a fault which
Desroches thinks serious, though it is only a peccadillo. I am more
provoked with myself for taking Florentine of the Gaiete for a marquise
than I am for losing fifteen hundred francs after a little debauch in
which everybody, even Godeschal, was half-seas over. This time, at any
rate, I've hurt no one by myself. I'm cured of such things forever. If
you are willing to help me, Monsieur Moreau, I swear to you that the
six years I must still stay a clerk before I can get a practice shall be
spent without--"

"Stop there!" said Moreau. "I have three children, and I can make no
promises."

"Never mind, never mind," said Madame Clapart to her son, casting a
reproachful glance at Moreau. "Your uncle Cardo