As to the other assistants, the barrier of respect which formerly
divided a master draper from his apprentices was that they would have
been more likely to steal a piece of cloth than to infringe this
time-honored etiquette. Such reserve may now appear ridiculous; but
these old houses were a school of honesty and sound morals. The
masters adopted their apprentices. The young man's linen was cared
for, mended, and often replaced by the mistress of the house. If an
apprentice fell ill, he was the object of truly maternal attention. In
a case of danger the master lavished his money in calling in the most
celebrated physicians, for he was not answerable to their parents
merely for the good conduct and training of the lads. If one of them,
whose character was unimpeachable, suffered misfortune, these old
tradesmen knew how to value the intelligence he had displayed, and
they did not hesitate to entrust the happiness of their daughters to
men whom they had long trusted with their fortunes. Guillaume was one
of these men of the old school, and if he had their ridiculous side,
he had all their good qualities; and Joseph Lebas, the chief
assistant, an orphan without any fortune, was in his mind destined to
be the husband of Virginie, his elder daughter. But Joseph did not
share the symmetrical ideas of his master, who would not for an empire
have given his second daughter in marriage before the elder. The
unhappy assistant felt that his heart was wholly given to Mademoiselle
Augustine, the younger. In order to justify this passion, which had
grown up in secret, it is necessary to inquire a little further into
the springs of the absolute government which ruled the old
cloth-merchant's household.

Guillaume had two daughters. The elder, Mademoiselle Virginie, was the
very image of her mother. Madame Guillaume, daughter of the Sieur