the sun, he devoted himself to horticulture; he adored flowers, and of
all flowers he best loved roses. His hands were brown as those of a
real gardener; he took care himself of his beds. Constantly in
conference with his working gardener he mingled little, especially for
the last two years, with the life of others; of whom, indeed, he saw
little. He took but one meal with the family, namely, his dinner; for
he rose too early to breakfast with his son and sister. To his efforts
we owe the famous rose Giguet, known so well to all amateurs.

This old man, who had now passed into the state of a domestic fetich,
was exhibited, as we may well suppose, on all extraordinary occasions.
Certain families enjoy the benefit of a demi-god of this kind, and
plume themselves upon him as they would upon a title.

"I have noticed," replied Madame Marion to her brother's question,
"that ever since the revolution of July Madame Beauvisage has aspired
to live in Paris. Obliged to stay here as long as her father lives,
she has fastened her ambition on a future son-in-law, and my lady
dreams now of the splendors and dignities of political life."

"Could you love Cecile?" said the colonel to his son.

"Yes, father."

"And does she like you?"

"I think so; but the thing is, to please the mother and grandfather.
Though old Grevin himself wants to oppose my election, my success
would determine Madame Beauvisage to accept me, because she expects to
manage me as she pleases and to be minister under my name."