people cannot live comfortably except with those who make no pretensions; knaves consort with men of probity; the most sentimental women often love the most frivolous men, and the most loyal of the one sex will give her heart to the most fickle of the other; lastly, libertines pursue innocence, and innocence often yields to the seductions of a ne'er-do-well. Extremes meet, contrasts are drawn together, and a painter finds his most beautiful effects in the opposition of light and shadow.

"Well," said Dubourg, when Frédéric joined him at the appointed place; "what news?"

"Why, not very good."

"Doesn't your father want you to travel?"

"Oh! yes, he has consented."

"In that case, I don't see why everything isn't all right."

"But—he—he isn't willing——"

"Go on."

"He isn't willing that I should travel with you."

"Why not?"

"Because—he says——"

"He says—— Well, go on."

"He says that you are a—reprobate."

"Why, he has never seen me more than three times!"

"It seems that somebody has talked to him about you."

"There are always people who make it their business to slander innocence. Do you know that, if monsieur le comte were not your father, I—— Although, after all, he is not far from right. But if he knew how thoroughly I have reformed! and how I have preached at myself since last night!—Well, what else?"

"He suggests as my travelling companion my former tutor, Monsieur Ménard."

"The idea of giving a tutor to a young man who is almost twenty-one! That sort of thing positively makes me ill! No matter; let us allow monsieur le comte to have his way; we will carry out our plans, all the same."

"How?"

"You won't be sorry to have me travel with you, will you?"

"Surely not."

"And I shall not be sorry to leave Paris for a time; that will give my creditors, who are always at my heels, a chance to rest a bit."

"But my father?"

"Don't you worry. Just don't say a word, and I will arrange matters so that—— By the way, what sort of a man is this tutor?"

"Oh! he's the best fellow in the world; but he's not a genius."

"So much the better."

"He thinks a great deal of a learned man."

"I'll talk Latin, Greek, English, to him; yes, and Chinese, if he doesn't understand it."

"I fancy that he has never travelled, except on the map."

"I'll tell him that I have been round the world."

"But it flatters him to be in the company of persons of high rank."

"I'll assume a rank that will be high enough for him."

"In heaven's name, what is your scheme?"

"I'll arrange it all, I tell you; go back to your father, and start off with your tutor. By the way, get all the money you can, for money is never a disadvantage when you're travelling; and be sure to let me know what time you are to start, and in what direction you are going."

The young men separated, Dubourg having told Frédéric where to send him word of the time at which he was to start, and having refused to divulge any of the details of his plan.

Let us leave them for a moment, while we make the acquaintance of Monsieur Ménard, of whom the young count has given us only a faint sketch, and whom it is essential to know before we travel in his company.

Monsieur Ménard was a man of about fifty years of age, very short and stout, and with a very fat face. He had a double chin, which was quite in harmony with a nose like a huge chestnut. Like Monsieur Tartufe, he had red ears and a florid complexion. His stomach was beginning to embarrass him a little, but his short legs, with their enormous calves, seemed strong enough to support an even heavier bulk.

Monsieur Ménard had passed almost the whole of his life in teaching young people; he had retained the mild and benign manners which a tutor employed in good society always adopts with his pupils. He was not a great scholar, but he was proud of what he did know, and was by no means insensible to praise. His narrow intellect had become even more confined by having no exercise except with children; but Monsieur Ménard was upright, kindly, and peaceably disposed; his only weakness was a tendency to feel that his stature was increased when he conversed with a lord, and his only fault a very pronounced fondness for the pleasures of the table, which was sometimes the occasion of a slight indisposition; not that he drank immoderately, but because he returned too often to a truffled turkey or a salmi of partridges.