“She truly loved her brother!” cried Oscar’s mother.
“But all my fortune is divided among my children, who have nothing further to expect from me,” the old man went on. “I divided the two million francs I had among them; I wished to see them happy in my lifetime. I kept nothing for myself but an annuity, and at my time of life a man clings to his habits.—Do you know what you must do with this youngster?” said he, calling back Oscar, and taking him by the arm. “Put him to study law, I will pay for his matriculation and preliminary fees. Place him with an attorney; let him learn all the tricks of the trade; if he does well, and gets on and likes the work, and if I am still alive, each of my children will, when the time comes, lend him a quarter of the sum necessary to purchase a connection; I will stand surety for him. From now till then you have only to feed and clothe him; he will know some hard times, no doubt, but he will learn what life is. Why, why! I set out from Lyons with two double louis given me by my grandmother; I came to Paris on foot—and here I am! Short commons are good for the health.—Young man, with discretion, honesty, and hard work success is certain. It is a great pleasure to make your own fortune; and when a man has kept his teeth, he eats what he likes in his old age, singing ‘La Mère Godichon’ every now and then, as I do.—Mark my words: Honesty, hard work, and discretion.”
“You hear, Oscar,” said his mother. “Your uncle has put in four words the sum-total of all my teaching, and you ought to stamp the last on your mind in letters of fire.”
“Oh, it is there!” replied Oscar.
“Well, then, thank your uncle; do you not understand that he is providing for you in the future? You may be an attorney in Paris.”
“He does not appreciate the splendor of his destiny,” said the old man, seeing Oscar’s bewildered face. “He has but just left school.—Listen to me: I am not given to wasting words,” his uncle went on. “Remember that at your age honesty is only secured by resisting temptations, and in a great city like Paris you meet them at every turn. Live in a garret under your mother’s roof; go straight to your lecture, and from that to your office; work away morning, noon, and night, and study at home; be a second clerk by the time you are two-and-twenty, and a head-clerk at four-and-twenty. Get learning, and you are a made man. And then if you should not like that line of work, you might go into my son’s office as a notary and succeed him.—So work, patience, honesty, and discretion—these are your watchwords.”
“And God grant you may live another thirty years to see your fifth child realize all our expectations!” cried Madame Clapart, taking the old man’s hand and pressing it with a dignity worthy of her young days.
“Come, breakfast,” said the kind old man, leading Oscar in by the ear.
During the meal Uncle Cardot watched his nephew on the sly, and soon discovered that he knew nothing of life.
“Send him to see me now and then,” said he, as he took leave of her, with a nod to indicate Oscar. “I will lick him into shape.”
This visit soothed the poor woman’s worst grief, for she had not looked for such a happy result. For a fortnight she took Oscar out walking, watched over him almost tyrannically, and thus time went on till the end of October.
One morning Oscar saw the terrible steward walk in to find the wretched party in the Rue de la Cerisaie breakfasting off a salad of herring and lettuce, with a cup of milk to wash it down.
“We have settled in Paris, but we do not live as we did at Presles,” said Moreau, who intended thus to make Madame Clapart aware of the change in their circumstances, brought about by Oscar’s misdemeanor. “But I shall not often be in town. I have gone into partnership with old Léger and old Margueron of Beaumont. We are land agents, and we began by buying the estate of Persan. I am the head of the firm, which has got together a million of francs, for I have borrowed on my property. When I find an opening, Père Léger and I go into the matter, and my partners each take a quarter and I half of the profits, for I have all the trouble; I shall always be on the road.
“My wife lives in Paris very quietly, in the Faubourg du Roule. When we have fairly started in business, and shall only be risking the interest on our money, if we are satisfied with Oscar, we may perhaps give him work.”
“Well, after all, my friend, my unlucky boy’s blunder will no doubt turn out to be the cause of your making a fine fortune, for you really were wasting your talents and energy at Presles.” Madame Clapart then told the story of her visit to Uncle Cardot, to show Moreau that she and her son might be no further expense to them.
“The old man is quite right,” said the ex-steward. “Oscar must be kept to his work with a hand of iron, and he will no doubt make a notary or an attorney. But we must not wander from the line traced out for him.—Ah! I know the man you want. The custom of an estate agent is valuable. I have been told of an attorney who has bought a practice without any connection. He is a young man; but as stiff as an iron bar, a tremendous worker, a perfect horse for energy and go; his name is Desroches. I will offer him all our business on condition of his taking Oscar in hand. I will offer
