from the tender care of
a romantic affection which the town came to admire in the end; and
this interest was Emile's education. The child of love was a bright and
pretty boy, while Joseph was no less heavy and plain-featured. The old
judge, blinded by paternal affection loved Joseph as his wife loved
Emile.

For a dozen years M. Blondet bore his lot with perfect resignation.
He shut his eyes to his wife's intrigue with a dignified, well-bred
composure, quite in the style of an eighteenth century grand seigneur;
but, like all men with a taste for a quiet life, he could cherish a
profound dislike, and he hated his younger son. When his wife died,
therefore, in 1818, he turned the intruder out of the house, and packed
him off to Paris to study law on an allowance of twelve hundred francs
for all resource, nor could any cry of distress extract another penny
from his purse. Emile Blondet would have gone under if it had not been
for his real father.

M. Blondet's house was one of the prettiest in the town. It stood almost
opposite the prefecture, with a neat little court in front. A row of
old-fashioned iron railings between two brick-work piers enclosed it
from the street; and a low wall, also of brick, with a second row of
railings along the top, connected the piers with the neighboring house.
The little court, a space about ten fathoms in width by twenty in
length, was cut in two by a brick pathway which ran from the gate to the
house door between a border on either side. Those borders were always
renewed; at every season of the year they exhibited a successful show
of blossom, to the admiration of the public. All along the back of the
gardenbeds a quantity of climbing plants grew up and covered the walls
of the neighboring houses with a magnificent mantle; the brick-work
piers were hidden in clusters of honeysuckle; and, to crown all, in
a couple of terra-cotta vases at the summit, a pair of acclimatized
cactuses displayed to the astonished eyes of the ignorant those thick
leaves bristling with spiny defences which seem to be due to some plant
disease.

It was a plain-looking house, built of brick, with brick-work arches
above the windows, and bright green Venetian shutters to make it gay.
Through the glass door you could look straight across the house to the
opposite glass door, at the end of a long passage, and down the central
alley in the garden beyond; while through the windows of the dining-room
and drawing-roo