“I am an old brute! I leave my master’s son in ignorance; for after all, I know how to read myself, and I believe that Chérubin doesn’t even know that. Certainly this state of things can’t be allowed to go on. Later, people will say: ‘Jasmin took no care of the child who was placed in his charge. Jasmin is unworthy of the late marquis’s confidence.’--I don’t propose that people shall say that of me. I am sixty years old now, but that’s no reason for being an idiot. I propose to show my strength of character.”
When Jasmin arrived at Nicole’s, he found her at work in the house, while Jacquinot sat half asleep in an old easy-chair.
“My friends,” said Jasmin, entering the room with a very busy air, and rolling his eyes about, “things can’t remain like this; we must make a complete change.”
Nicole gazed at the old servant and said:
“You want to change our house over; you think this room is too dark? Dear me! we’re used to it, you see.”
“Ain’t we going to drink a glass?” said Jacquinot, rising, and rubbing his eyes.
“In a minute, Jacquinot, in a minute.--My friends, you don’t understand me. I am talking about your foster-child, my young master, to whom you only give such food as you yourselves eat; do you not?”
“Ain’t he satisfied, the dear child?” cried Nicole. “Bless my soul! I will give him whatever he wants; all he has got to do is to speak. I will make him tarts, cakes----”
“It isn’t that, Nicole, it isn’t that sort of food that I’m talking about. It’s Chérubin’s mind that needs a lot of things.”
“Mind? Something light, I suppose? I will make him some cream cheese.”
“Once more, Dame Frimousset, allow me to speak. My young master must become a scholar, or something like it; it isn’t a question of eating, but of studying. What does he learn here with you? Does he even know how to read, to write or to figure?”
“Faith, no,” said Nicole; “you never mentioned those things, and we didn’t think they were necessary, especially as Chérubin is going to be very rich; we didn’t think there was any need of his learning a trade.”
“It isn’t a question of learning a trade, but of becoming a scholar.”
“Ah yes! I understand, like the schoolmaster, who always stuffs his conversation full of words that nobody knows what they mean.”