A Start in Life [17]
hundred francs from a clerkship obtained for him through the Comte de
Serizy. Moreau, the only protector of a woman whom he had known in
possession of millions, obtained a half-scholarship for her son, Oscar
Husson, at the school of Henri IV.; and he sent her regularly, by
Pierrotin, such supplies from the estate at Presles as he could
decently offer to a household in distress.
Oscar was the whole life and all the future of his mother. The poor
woman could now be reproached with no other fault than her exaggerated
tenderness for her boy,--the bete-noire of his step-father. Oscar was,
unfortunately, endowed by nature with a foolishness his mother did not
perceive, in spite of the step-father's sarcasms. This foolishness--
or, to speak more specifically, this overweening conceit--so troubled
Monsieur Moreau that he begged Madame Clapart to send the boy down to
him for a month that he might study his character, and find out what
career he was fit for. Moreau was really thinking of some day
proposing Oscar to the count as his successor.
But to give to the devil and to God what respectively belongs to them,
perhaps it would be well to show the causes of Oscar Husson's silly
self-conceit, premising that he was born in the household of Madame
Mere. During his early childhood his eyes were dazzled by imperial
splendors. His pliant imagination retained the impression of those
gorgeous scenes, and nursed the images of a golden time of pleasure in
hopes of recovering them. The natural boastfulness of school-boys
(possessed of a desire to outshine their mates) resting on these
memories of his childhood was developed in him beyond all measure. It
may also have been that his mother at home dwelt too fondly on the
days when she herself was a queen in Directorial Paris. At any rate,
Oscar, who was now leaving school, had been made to bear many
humiliations which the paying pupils put upon those who hold
scholarships, unless the scholars are able to impose respect by
superior physical ability.
This mixture of former splendor now departed, of beauty gone, of blind
maternal love, of sufferings heroically borne, made the mother one of
those pathetic figures which catch the eye of many an observer in
Paris.
Incapable, naturally, of understanding the real attachment of Moreau
to this woman, or that of the woman for the man she had saved in 1797,
now her only friend, Pierrotin did not think it best to communicate
the suspicion that had entered his head as to some danger which was
threatening Moreau. The valet's speech, "We have enough to do in this
world to look after ourselves," returned to his mind, and with it came
that sentiment of obedience to what he called the "chefs de file,"--
the front-rank men in war, and men of rank in peace. Besides, just now
Pierrotin's head was as full of his own stings as there are five-franc
pieces in a thousand francs. So that the "Very good, madame,"
"Certainly, madame," with which he replied to the poor mother, to whom
a trip of twenty miles appeared a journey, showed plainly that he
desired to get away from her useless and prolix instructions.
"You will be sure to place the packages so that they cannot get wet if
the weather should happen to change."
"I've a hood," replied Pierrotin. "Besides, see, madame, with what
care they are being placed."
"Oscar, don't stay more than two weeks, no matter how much they may
ask you," continued Madame Clapart, returning to her son. "You can't
please Madame Moreau, whatever you do; besides, you must be home by
the end of September. We are to go to Belleville, you know, to your
uncle Cardot."
"Yes, mamma."
"Above all," she said, in a low voice, "be sure never to speak about
servants; keep thinking all the time that Madame Moreau was once a
waiting-maid."
"Yes, mamma."
Oscar, like all youths whose vanity is excessively ticklish, seemed
annoyed