"Be seated, sir, be seated. Thanks to the scandal occasioned by your debaucheries and rascalities, I have discovered your place of abode. Talents such as yours have at least one advantage—they cannot long remain hidden under a bushel. You are on the direct road to renown, young sir, and I trust that you will soon reach your goal, the Grève,[1] and there enjoy to the full the glory of being exposed to the admiring gaze of the public!"
I attempted no reply, and he went on: "Little can you conceive the grief of a father who, after lavishing his tenderest affection upon a son, and sparing no pains to make him an honorable man, sees all his care rewarded in the end by that son's becoming a heartless scoundrel, and bringing disgrace upon his head! The reverses of fortune carry consolation in their train. Time effaces them, and the sorrow they cause gradually fades away. But what remedy is there, alas! for a trial that grows worse as the days go by—such as the profligacy of a vicious son, in whom all sense of honor is dead?"
"You are silent, unhappy boy!" he resumed, after a moment's pause. "Upon my word, to judge by the mock modesty and hypocritical meekness of your manner, one would suppose that you were the most upright and stainless member of all the race of des Grieux!"
Although I was forced to admit to myself that this tirade was not altogether undeserved, it seemed to me that my father was overstepping the bounds of justice; and I felt that I might fairly be permitted to give frank expression to my thoughts.
"I assure you, sir," I said, "that the modesty of my bearing before you is not at all affected. It is the natural
- ↑ La Grève: A public square in Paris, where executions formerly took place.—Translator.
