As it happened Mathieu Froment gradually became indispensable at the
works. The young master, Alexandre Beauchene, passed through an anxious
crisis. The dowry which his father had been forced to draw from his
coffers in order to get Seraphine married, and other large expenses which
had been occasioned by the girl's rebellious and perverse conduct, had
left but little working capital in the business. Then, too, on the morrow
of Leon Beauchene's death it was found that, with the carelessness often
evinced in such matters, he had neglected to leave a will; so that
Seraphine eagerly opposed her brother's interests, demanding her personal
share of the inheritance, and even suggesting the sale of the works. The
property had narrowly escaped being cut up, annihilated. And Alexandre
Beauchene still shivered with terror and anger at the recollection of
that time, amidst all his delight at having at last rid himself of his
sister by paying her in money the liberally estimated value of her share.
It was in order to fill up the void thus created in his finances that he
had espoused the half-million represented by Constance--an ugly creature,
as he himself bitterly acknowledged, coarse male as he was. Truth to
tell, she was so thin, so scraggy, that before consenting to make her his
wife he had often called her "that bag of bones." But, on the other hand,
thanks to his marriage with her, all his losses were made good in five or
six years' time; the business of the works even doubled, and great
prosperity set in. And Mathieu, having become a most active and necessary
coadjutor, ended by taking the post of chief designer, at a salary of
four thousand two hundred francs per annum.

Morange, the chief accountant, whose office was near Mathieu's, thrust
his head through the doorway as soon as he heard the young man installing
himself at his drawing-table. "I say, my dear Froment," he exclaimed,
"don't forget that you are to take dejeuner with us."