amounting almost to cunning.

As his father presented him, he bowed profoundly; but he was very
evidently out of temper.

M. Lacheneur resumed:

"Having no longer the means to maintain Jean in Paris, I have made him
return. My ruin will, perhaps, be a blessing to him. The air of great
cities is not good for the son of a peasant. Fools that we are, we
send them there to teach them to rise above their fathers. But they do
nothing of the kind. They think only of degrading themselves."

"Father," interrupted the young man; "father, wait, at least, until we
are alone!"

"Monsieur d'Escorval is not a stranger." Chanlouineau evidently sided
with the son, since he made repeated signs to M. Lacheneur to be silent.

Either he did not see them, or he pretended not to see them, for he
continued:

"I must have wearied you, Monsieur, by telling you again and again: 'I
am pleased with my son. He has a commendable ambition; he is working
faithfully; he will succeed.' Ah! I was a poor, foolish father! The
friend who carried Jean the order to return has enlightened me, to my
sorrow. This model young man you see here left the gaming-house only to
run to public balls. He was in love with a wretched little ballet-girl
in some low theatre; and to please this creature, he also went upon the
stage, with his face painted red and white."