Luckily for Emile, he was able to make his own way.He made his appearance, at the age of twenty, as one of the masters of modern literature; and met with no less success in the society into which he was launched by the father who at first could afford to bear the expense of the young man's extravagance.Perhaps Emile's precocious celebrity and the good figure that he made strengthened the bonds of his friendship with the Countess.Perhaps Mme.de Montcornet, with the Russian blood in her veins (her mother was the daughter of the Princess Scherbelloff), might have cast off the friend of her childhood if he had been a poor man struggling with all his might among the difficulties which beset a man of letters in Paris; but by the time that the real strain of Emile's adventurous life began, their attachment was unalterable on either side.He was looked upon as one of the leading lights of journalism when young d'Esgrignon met him at his first supper party in Paris; his acknowledged position in the world of letters was very high, and he towered above his reputation.
Goodman Blondet had not the faintest conception of the power which the Constitutional Government had given to the press; nobody ventured to talk in his presence of the son of whom he refused to hear.And so it came to pass that he knew nothing of Emile whom he had cursed and Emile's greatness.
Old Blondet's integrity was as deeply rooted in him as his passion for flowers; he knew nothing but law and botany.He would have interviews with litigants, listen to them, chat with them, and show them his flowers; he would accept rare seeds from them; but once on the bench, no judge on earth was more impartial.Indeed, his manner of proceeding was so well known, that litigants never went near him except to hand over some document which might enlighten him in the performance of his duty, and nobody tried to throw dust in his eyes.With his learning, his lights, and his way of holding his real talents cheap, he was so indispensable to President du Ronceret, that, matrimonial schemes apart, that functionary would have done all that he could, in an underhand way, to prevent the vice-president from retiring in favor of his son.If the learned old man left the bench, the President would be utterly unable to do without him.
Goodman Blondet did not know that it was in Emile's power to fulfil all his wishes in a few hours.The simplicity of his life was worthy of one of Plutarch's men.In the evening he looked over his cases;next morning he worked among his flowers; and all day long he gave decisions on the bench.The pretty maid-servant, now of ripe age, and wrinkled like an Easter pippin, looked after the house, and they lived according to the established customs of the strictest parsimony.Mlle.
Cadot always carried the keys of her cupboards and fruit-loft about with her.She was indefatigable.She went to market herself, she cooked and dusted and swept, and never missed mass of a morning.To give some idea of the domestic life of the household, it will be enough to remark that the father and son never ate fruit till it was beginning to spoil, because Mlle.Cadot always brought out anything that would not keep.No one in the house ever tasted the luxury of new bread, and all the fast days in the calendar were punctually observed.
The gardener was put on rations like a soldier; the elderly Valideh always kept an eye upon him.And she, for her part, was so deferentially treated, that she took her meals with the family, and in consequence was continually trotting to and fro between the kitchen and the parlor at breakfast and dinner time.
Mlle.Blandureau's parents had consented to her marriage with Joseph Blondet upon one condition--the penniless and briefless barrister must be an assistant judge.So, with the desire of fitting his son to fill the position, old M.Blondet racked his brains to hammer the law into his son's head by dint of lessons, so as to make a cut-and-dried lawyer of him.As for Blondet junior, he spent almost every evening at the Blandureaus' house, to which also young Fabien du Ronceret had been admitted since his return, without raising the slightest suspicion in the minds of father or son.
Everything in this life of theirs was measured with an accuracy worthy of Gerard Dow's Money Changer; not a grain of salt too much, not a single profit foregone; but the economical principles by which it was regulated were relaxed in favor of the greenhouse and garden."The garden was the master's craze," Mlle.Cadot used to say.The master's blind fondness for Joseph was not a craze in her eyes; she shared the father's predilection; she pampered Joseph; she darned his stockings;and would have been better pleased if the money spent on the garden had been put by for Joseph's benefit.
That garden was kept in marvelous order by a single man; the paths, covered with river-sand, continually turned over with the rake, meandered among the borders full of the rarest flowers.Here were all kinds of color and scent, here were lizards on the walls, legions of little flower-pots standing out in the sun, regiments of forks and hoes, and a host of innocent things, a combination of pleasant results to justify the gardener's charming hobby.
