brella. This woman, who
had once been beautiful, seemed to be about forty years of age; but her
blue eyes, deprived of the fire which happiness puts there, told plainly
that she had long renounced the world. Her dress, as well as her whole
air and demeanor, indicated a mother wholly devoted to her household
and her son. If the strings of her bonnet were faded, the shape betrayed
that it was several years old. The shawl was fastened by a broken
needle converted into a pin by a bead of sealing-wax. She was waiting
impatiently for Pierrotin, wishing to recommend to his special care her
son, who was doubtless travelling for the first time, and with whom she
had come to the coach-office as much from doubt of his ability as from
maternal affection.

This mother was in every way completed by the son, so that the son would
not be understood without the mother. If the mother condemned herself to
mended gloves, the son wore an olive-green coat with sleeves too short
for him, proving that he had grown, and might grow still more, like
other adults of eighteen or nineteen years of age. The blue trousers,
mended by his mother, presented to the eye a brighter patch of color
when the coat-tails maliciously parted behind him.

"Don't rub your gloves that way, you'll spoil them," she was saying as
Pierrotin appeared. "Is this the conductor? Ah! Pierrotin, is it you?"
she exclaimed, leaving her son and taking the coachman apart a few
steps.

"I hope you're well, Madame Clapart," he replied, with an air that
expressed both respect and familiarity.

"Yes, Pierrotin, very well. Please take good care of my Oscar; he is
travelling alone for the first time."

"Oh! so he is going alone to Monsieur Moreau!" cried Pierrotin, for the
purpose of finding out whether he were really going there.

"Yes," said the mother.

"Then Madame Moreau is willing?" returned Pierrotin, with a sly look.

"Ah!" said the mother, "it will not be all roses for him, poor child!
But his future absolutely requires that I should send him."

This answer struck Pierrotin, who hesitated to confide his fears for
the steward to Madame Clapart, while she, on her part, was afraid of
injuring her boy if she asked Pierrotin for a care which might have
transformed him into a mentor. During this short deliberation, which was
ostensibly covered by a few phrases as to the weather, the journey, and
the stopping-places along the road, we will ourselves explain what were
the tie