in. During the night Grandet's ideas had
taken another course, which was the reason of his sudden clemency. He
had hatched a plot by which to trick the Parisians, to decoy and dupe
and snare them, to drive them into a trap, and make them go and come and
sweat and hope and turn pale,--a plot by which to amuse himself, the old
provincial cooper, sitting there beneath his gloomy rafters, or passing
up and down the rotten staircase of his house in Saumur. His nephew
filled his mind. He wished to save the honor of his dead brother without
the cost of a penny to the son or to himself. His own funds he was about
to invest for three years; he had therefore nothing further to do than
to manage his property in Saumur. He needed some nutriment for his
malicious activity, and he found it suddenly in his brother's failure.
Feeling nothing to squeeze between his own paws, he resolved to crush
the Parisians in behalf of Charles, and to play the part of a good
brother on the cheapest terms. The honor of the family counted for so
little in this scheme that his good intentions might be likened to the
interest a gambler takes in seeing a game well played in which he has no
stake. The Cruchots were a necessary part of his plan; but he would not
seek them,--he resolved to make them come to him, and to lead up that
very evening to a comedy whose plot he had just conceived, which should
make him on the morrow an object of admiration to the whole town without
its costing him a single penny.

In her father's absence Eugenie had the happiness of busying herself
openly with her much-loved cousin, of spending upon him fearlessly
the treasures of her pity,--woman's sublime superiority, the sole she
desires to have recognized, the sole she pardons man for letting
her assume. Three or four times the young girl went to listen to her
cousin's breathing, to know if he were sleeping or awake; then, when he
had risen, she turned her thoughts to the cream, the eggs, the fruits,
the plates, the glasses,--all that was a part of his breakfast became
the object of some special care. At length she ran lightly up the old
staircase to listen to the noise her cousin made. Was he dressing? Did
he still weep? She reached the door.

"My cousin!"

"Yes, cousin."

"Will you breakfast downstairs, or in your room?"

"Where you like."

"How do you feel?"

"Dear cousin, I am ashamed of being hungry."

This conversation, held through the closed door, was like an e