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know, my daughter, that your father charged us not to speak to
monsieur--"
"Say Charles," said young Grandet.
"Ah! you are called Charles? What a beautiful name!" cried Eugenie.
Presentiments of evil are almost always justified. At this moment
Nanon, Madame Grandet, and Eugenie, who had all three been thinking
with a shudder of the old man's return, heard the knock whose echoes
they knew but too well.
"There's papa!" said Eugenie.
She removed the saucer filled with sugar, leaving a few pieces on the
table-cloth; Nanon carried off the egg-cup; Madame Grandet sat up like
a frightened hare. It was evidently a panic, which amazed Charles, who
was wholly unable to understand it.
"Why! what is the matter?" he asked.
"My father has come," answered Eugenie.
"Well, what of that?"
Monsieur Grandet entered the room, threw his keen eye upon the table,
upon Charles, and saw the whole thing.
"Ha! ha! so you have been making a feast for your nephew; very good,
very good, very good indeed!" he said, without stuttering. "When the
cat's away, the mice will play."
"Feast!" thought Charles, incapable of suspecting or imagining the
rules and customs of the household.
"Give me my glass, Nanon," said the master
Eugenie brought the glass. Grandet drew a horn-handled knife with a
big blade from his breeches' pocket, cut a slice of bread, took a
small bit of butter, spread it carefully on the bread, and ate it
standing. At this moment Charlie was sweetening his coffee. Pere
Grandet saw the bits of sugar, looked at his wife, who turned pale,
and made three steps forward; he leaned down to the poor woman's ear
and said,--
"Where did you get all that sugar?"
"Nanon fetched it from Fessard's; there was none."
It is impossible to picture the profound interest the three women took
in this mute scene. Nanon had left her kitchen and stood looking into
the room to see what would happen. Charles, having tasted his coffee,
found it bitter and glanced about for the sugar, which Grandet had
already put away.
"What do you want?" said his uncle.
"The sugar."
"Put in more milk," answered the master of the house; "your coffee
will taste sweeter."
Eugenie took the saucer which Grandet had put away and placed it on
the table, looking calmly at her father as she did so. Most assuredly,
the Parisian woman who held a silken ladder with her feeble arms to
facilitate the flight of her lover, showed no greater courage than
Eugenie displayed when she replaced the sugar upon the table. The
lover rewarded his mistress when she proudly showed him her beautiful
bruised arm, and bathed every swollen vein with tears and kisses till
it was cured with happiness. Charles, on the other hand, never so much
as knew the secret of the cruel agitation that shook and bruised the
heart of his cousin, crushed as it was by the look of the old miser.
"You are not eating your breakfast, wife.
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