The Seven Cardinal Sins: Envy and Indolence. Эжен Сю

servant, and entered the house in company with them.

      "Where is he going?" asked the doctor.

      "To give his lesson. Didn't you see his scholar?"

      "What scholar?"

      "That child is the son of a day labourer who lives too far from Pont Brillant to be able to send his child to the village school, so Frederick is teaching the little fellow to read. He gives him two lessons a day, and I assure you that I am as well pleased with the teacher as with the pupil, doctor, for Frederick displays in his teaching a zeal, patience, and sweetness of disposition that delights me."

      "It is certainly a very nice thing for him to do."

      "We are obliged to do good in these small ways, you see, doctor," said Madame Bastien, with a rather sad smile. "You know with what rigid parsimony my son and I are treated in regard to money matters. Still, I should not complain. Thanks to this parsimony, Frederick devises all sorts of expedients. Some of them are, I assure you, very touching, and if I were not afraid of showing too much pride, I would tell you something that occurred last week."

      "Go on, my dear Madame Bastien; surely you are not going to try to play the mock modest mother with me."

      "No, I am not, so listen. Last Thursday Frederick and I walked over to Brevan heath—"

      "Where they are clearing up some land. I noticed that fact as I passed there this morning."

      "Yes, and you know that is pretty hard work, doctor."

      "I should say that it was. Digging up roots and stumps that have been there three or four centuries."

      "Well, while I was walking about with Frederick, we saw a poor, hungry-looking woman, with a little girl about ten years old, as pale and emaciated-looking as her mother, working there on the heath."

      "A woman and a child of that age! Why, such work was entirely beyond their strength."

      "You are right, doctor, and in spite of their courage, the poor creatures were making little or no headway. It was almost as much as the poor mother could do to lift the heavy spade, much less to force it into the hard earth, and when the root of a sapling at which she must have been digging a long time became partially uncovered, the woman and child, now using the spade as a lever, now digging in the ground with their hands, endeavoured to loosen the root, but in vain. Seeing how utterly futile their efforts were, the poor woman made an almost despairing movement, then threw herself down on the ground as if overcome with grief and fatigue, and covering her head with her tattered apron, she began to sob bitterly, while the child, kneeling beside her, also wept pitifully."

      "Ah! such poverty as that!"

      "I looked at my son. There were tears in his eyes as well as my own. I approached the poor woman and asked her how it happened that she was trying to do work so much beyond her strength, and she told me that her husband had contracted to clear up one quarter of the land, that he had become ill from overwork a couple of days before, that some of the work was still to be done, but that if the job was not finished by Saturday night, he would lose the fruit of nearly a fortnight's labour, for it was on these terms that her husband had undertaken the job, the work being urgent."

      "Such contracts are frequently made, and unless the conditions are scrupulously complied with, the poor delinquents have to suffer, I am sorry to say. So the poor woman was trying to take her husband's place, I suppose."

      "Yes, for it was a question of making or losing thirty-five francs upon which they were counting to pay the yearly rental of their miserable hovel, and purchase a little rye to live upon until the next harvest. After a few minutes' reflection Frederick said to the poor woman: 'I should think a good worker could finish the job in a couple of days, my good woman.' 'Yes, monsieur, but my husband is too ill to do it,' she replied. 'These poor people mustn't lose their thirty-five francs, mother,' Frederick said to me. 'They must have the money and we cannot afford to give it to them, so let me off from my studies on Friday and Saturday and I will finish the work for them. The poor woman won't run the risk of making herself ill. She can stay at home and nurse her husband, and Sunday she will get her money.'"

      "Frederick is a noble boy!" exclaimed M. Dufour.

      "Saturday evening just at dusk the task was completed," Madame Bastien continued. "Frederick performed the work with an ardour and cheerfulness which showed that it was a real pleasure to him. I stayed with him all during the two days. There was a big juniper-tree only a little way off, and I sat in the shade of that and read or embroidered while my son worked; and how he worked! such vigorous blows of the spade as he struck, the very earth trembled under my feet."

      "I can well believe it; though he is rather slim, he is remarkably strong for one of his years."

      "I took him water now and then, and to save time when lunch-time came, our old Marguerite brought us out something to eat. How happy we were eating out there on the heath under the shade of the juniper. Frederick enjoyed it immensely. Of course there was nothing so very wonderful about what he did, but what touched and pleased me was the promptness with which he made the resolution, and the perseverance and tenacity of will with which he carried it out."

      "You are, indeed, the happiest of mothers," said the doctor with genuine emotion, pressing Marie's hands warmly, "and you have reason to be doubly happy, as this happiness is your own work."

      "What else could you expect, doctor?" replied Madame Bastien, artlessly. "One lives for one's son you know."

      "You most assuredly do," said the doctor, warmly, "and it is well for you that you do, as but for him—" but M. Dufour checked himself suddenly as if he had been about to say something that would be better left unsaid.

      "You are right, my dear doctor, but now I think of it, didn't you say something about a proposition you were going to make to Frederick and me?"

      "True, it is this: you know, or rather you do not know—for you hear very little of the neighbourhood gossip—that the Château de Pont Brillant has recently undergone a thorough renovation."

      "I am so little au courant with the gossip of the neighbourhood, as you say, that this is the first intimation I have had of the fact. I even thought that the château was closed."

      "It will not be much longer, for the young marquis is coming down to occupy it with his grandmother."

      "This is the son of the M. de Pont Brillant who died about three years ago, I suppose. He must be very young."

      "About Frederick's age. His father and mother are both dead, but his grandmother idolises him and she has gone to fabulous expense to refurnish the château, where she will hereafter spend eight or nine months of the year with her grandson. I was called to the castle a few days ago to attend M. le chef of the conservatories—for these great people do not say gardener; that would be entirely too common—and I was dazzled by the luxury and splendour that pervaded the immense establishment. There is a magnificent picture gallery, a palm house through which one could drive in a carriage, and superb statues in the gardens. Above all—but I want to have the pleasure of surprising you, so I will only say that the place rivals any of the magnificent palaces described in the Arabian Nights. I feel sure that you and Frederick would enjoy seeing all the wonders of this fairy-land, and thanks to the consideration which M. le chef of the gardens and conservatories accords me, I can take you through the chateau to-morrow or the day after, but no later, as the young marquis is expected the day following that. What do you say to the proposition?"

      "I accept it with pleasure, doctor. It will be a great treat to Frederick, whose wonder will be the greater as he has no idea that any such splendour exists in the world. So I thank you most heartily. We shall have a delightful day."

      "Very well. When shall we go?"

      "To-morrow, if it suits you."

      "Perfectly; I will make my round very early in the morning, so I can get here by nine o'clock. It will take us only about half an hour to reach the château, as there is a short cut through the forest."

      "And after