The Idol of Paris | Page 2

of everyone to select and to construct his future for himself.'"
Darbois attempted to speak....
"You even told mama, who had never known it, that grandfather wanted to place you in business, and that you rebelled."
"Ah! rebelled," murmured Darbois, with a slight shrug.
"Yes, rebelled. And you added, 'My father cut off my allowance for a year, but I stuck to it; I tutored poor students who couldn't get through their examinations, I lived from hand to mouth, but I did live, and I was able to continue my studies in philosophy.'"
Uncle Renaud was openly nodding encouragement. Adhemar Meydieux rose heavily, and straightening up with a succession of jerky movements, caught himself squarely on his heels, and then, with great conviction, said: "See here, child, if I were your father, I should take you by the ear and put you out of the room."
Esperance turned purple.
"I repeat, children should obey without question!"
"I hope to prove to my daughter by reasoning that she is probably wrong," said M. Darbois very quietly.
"Not at all. You must order, not persuade."
"Now, M. Meydieux," exclaimed the young painter, "it seems to me that you are going a little too far. Children should respect their parents' wishes as far as possible; but when it is a question of their own future, they have a right to present their side of the case. If my uncle Darbois's father had had his way, my uncle Darbois would probably now be a mediocre engineer, instead of the brilliant philosopher who is admired and recognized by the entire world."
Gentle little Madame Darbois sat up proudly, and Esperance looked at her father with a world of tenderness in her eyes.
"But, my lad," pursued Adhemar, swelling with conviction, "your uncle might well have made a fortune at machinery, while, as it is, he has just managed to exist."
"We are very happy"--Madame Darbois slipped in her word.
Esperance had bounded out of her chair, and from behind her father encircled his head with her arms. "Oh! yes, very happy," she murmured in a low voice, "and you would not, darling papa, spoil the harmony of our life together?"
"Remember, my dear little Esperance, what I said to your mother concerned only men--now we are considering the future of a young girl, and that is a graver matter!"
"Why?"
"Because men are better armed against the struggle, and life is, alas, one eternal combat."
"The armour of the intellect is the same for a young girl as for a young man."
Adhemar shook his shoulders impatiently. Seeing that he was getting angry and was like to explode, Esperance cried out, "Wait, godfather, you must let me try to convince my parents. Suppose, father, that I had chosen the same career as Maurice. What different armour should I need?"
Fran?ois listened to his daughter affectionately, drawing her closer to him. "Understand me, my dearie. I am not denying your wish as a proof of my parental authority. No, remember this is the second time that you have expressed your will in the matter of the choice of your career. The first time I asked you to consider it for six months: The six months having passed, you now place me under the obligation of--"
"Oh! papa, what a horrid word!"
"But that is it," he went on, playing with her pretty hair, "you have put me under the obligation of answering you definitely; and I have called this family council because I have not the courage, nor, perhaps, the right, to stand in your way--the way you wish to go."
Adhemar made a violent effort to leap to his feet, declaiming in his heavy voice, "Yes, Fran?ois, you must try and prevent her from going this way, the most evil, the most perilous above all, for a woman."
Esperance began to tremble, but she stood resolutely away from her father, holding herself rigid with her arms hanging straight at her sides. The rose tint of her cheeks had disappeared and her blue eyes were dimmed with shadows.
Maurice hastily made a number of sketches of her; never before had he found his cousin so interesting.
Adhemar continued, "Pray allow me to proceed with what I have to say, my dear child. I have come from the country for this purpose, in answer to your father's summons. I wish to offer my experience for your protection. Your parents know nothing of life. Fran?ois breathes the ether of a world peopled only by philosophers--whether dead or living, it makes little difference; your mother lives only for you two. I expressed at once my horror at the career that you have chosen, I expatiated upon all the dangers! You seem to have understood nothing, and your father, thanks to his philosophy, that least trustworthy of guides, continues futilely reasoning, for ever reasoning!"
His harangue was cut short. Esperance's clear voice broke in, "I do not