Chapter 3 - Page 2

gracefully. The men rose to answer by a courteous
inclination, and the women made a ceremonious bow.

"You are cold, no doubt, monsieur," said Madame Grandet; "you have,
perhaps, travelled from--"

"Just like all women!" said the old wine-grower, looking up from a
letter he was reading. "Do let monsieur rest himself!"

"But, father, perhaps monsieur would like to take something," said
Eugenie.

"He has got a tongue," said the old man sternly.

The stranger was the only person surprised by this scene; all the
others were well-used to the despotic ways of the master. However,
after the two questions and the two replies had been exchanged, the
newcomer rose, turned his back towards the fire, lifted one foot so as
to warm the sole of its boot, and said to Eugenie,--

"Thank you, my cousin, but I dined at Tours. And," he added, looking
at Grandet, "I need nothing; I am not even tired."

"Monsieur has come from the capital?" asked Madame des Grassins.

Monsieur Charles,--such was the name of the son of Monsieur Grandet of
Paris,--hearing himself addressed, took a little eye-glass, suspended
by a chain from his neck, applied it to his right eye to examine what
was on the table, and also the persons sitting round it. He ogled
Madame des Grassins with much impertinence, and said to her, after he
had observed all he wished,--

"Yes, madame. You are playing at loto, aunt," he added. "Do not let me
interrupt you, I beg; go on with your game: it is too amusing to
leave."

"I was certain it was the cousin," thought Madame des Grassins,
casting repeated glances at him.

"Forty-seven!" cried the old abbe. "Mark it down, Madame des Grassins.
Isn't that your number?"

Monsieur des Grassins put a counter on his wife's card, who sat
watching first the cousin from Paris and then Eugenie, without
thinking of her loto, a prey to mournful presentiments. From time to
time the young the heiress glanced furtively at her cousin, and the
banker's wife easily detected a _crescendo_ of surprise and curiosity
in her mind.

Monsieur Charles Grandet, a handsome young man of twenty-two,
presented at this moment a singular contrast to the worthy
provincials, who, considerably disgusted by his aristocratic manners,
were all studying him with sarcastic intent. This needs an
explanation. At twenty-two, young people are still so near childhood
that they often conduct themselves childishly. In all probability, out
of every hundred of them fully ninety-nine would have behaved
precisely as Monsieur Charles Grandet was now behaving.

Some