e Andree. His was
such a green old age that at sixty-seven he still directed his business,
in which his sons Leonce and Charles remained simple _employes_ like
his sons-in-law--the husbands of his daughters, Pauline and Sophie--who
trembled before him, uncontested king that he remained, obeyed by one
and all, grandfather of seven big bearded young men and nine strong
young women, through four of whom he had become a great-grandfather
even before his elder, the wise Denis. For this troop six carriages were
required. And the defile lasted two hours, and the farm was soon full of
a happy, laughing throng, holiday-making in the bright June sunlight.

Mathieu and Marianne had not yet put in an appearance. Ambroise, who was
the grand master of the ceremonies that day, had made them promise to
remain in their room, like sovereigns hidden from their people, until
he should go to fetch them. He desired that they should appear in all
solemnity. And when he made up his mind to summon them, the whole nation
being assembled together, he found his brother Benjamin on the threshold
of the house defending the door like a bodyguard.

He, Benjamin, had remained the one idler, the one unfruitful scion of
that swarming tribe, which had toiled and multiplied so prodigiously.
Now three-and-forty years of age, without a wife and without children,
he lived, it seemed, solely for the joy of the old home, as a companion
to his father and a passionate worshipper of his mother, who with the
egotism of love had set themselves upon keeping him for themselves
alone. At first they had not been opposed to his marrying, but when
they had seen him refuse one match after another, they had secretly felt
great delight. Nevertheless, as years rolled by, some unacknowledged
remorse had come to them amid their happiness at having him beside
them like some hoarded treasure, the delight of an avaricious old age,
following a life of prodigality. Did not their Benjamin suffer at having
been thus monopolized, shut up for their sole pleasure within the
four walls of their house? He had at all times displayed an anxious
dreaminess, his eyes had ever sought far-away things, the unknown land
where perfect satisfaction dwelt, yonder, behind the horizon. And now
that age was stealing upon him his torment seemed to increase, as if he
were in despair at finding himself unable to try the possibilities of
the unknown, before he ended a useless life devoid of happiness.

Ho