indignation.

"A little more, young lady, and you will be wanting in respect for your
father," said the colonel, smiling, and noticing Butscha's look. "See
what it is to spoil one's children!"

"I am your only child," she said saucily.

"Child, indeed," remarked the notary, significantly.

"Monsieur," said Modeste, turning upon him, "my father is delighted to
have me for his governess; he gave me life and I give him knowledge; he
will soon owe me something."

"There seems occasion for it," said Madame Mignon.

"But mademoiselle is right," said Canalis, rising and standing before
the fireplace in one of the finest attitudes of his collection. "God,
in his providence, has given food and clothing to man, but he has not
directly given him art. He says to man: 'To live, thou must bow thyself
to earth; to think, thou shalt lift thyself to Me.' We have as much need
of the life of the soul as of the life of the body,--hence, there are
two utilities. It is true we cannot be shod by books or clothed by
poems. An epic song is not, if you take the utilitarian view, as useful
as the broth of a charity kitchen. The noblest ideas will not sail a
vessel in place of canvas. It is quite true that the cotton-gin gives us
calicoes for thirty sous a yard less than we ever paid before; but that
machine and all other industrial perfections will not breathe the breath
of life into a people, will not tell futurity of a civilization that
once existed. Art, on the contrary, Egyptian, Mexican, Grecian, Roman
art, with their masterpieces--now called useless!--reveal the existence
of races back in the vague immense of time, beyond where the great
intermediary nations, denuded of men of genius, have disappeared,
leaving not a line nor a trace behind them! The works of genius are the
'summum' of civilization, and presuppose utility. Surely a pair of boots
are not as agreeable to your eyes as a fine play at the theatre; and you
don't prefer a windmill to the church of Saint-Ouen, do you? Well then,
nations are imbued with the same feelings as the individual man, and
the man's cherished desire is to survive himself morally just as he
propagates himself physically. The survival of a people is the work of
its men of genius. At this very moment France is proving, energetically,
the truth of that theory. She is, undoubtedly, excelled by England in
commerce, industry, and navigation, and yet she is, I believe, at the
head of the world,--by reason of he