But, when it was time for his uncle to appear, Julien had some scruples about deceiving his mother. He was afraid that the surprise would be too great, and he tried to prepare her for the visit he expected. Madame Thierry made the best of it; but she had hardly saluted Monsieur Antoine when she went up to her room on the first pretext that occurred to her, and there remained, unable to make up her mind to face that antipathetic individual. Antoine, who had not seen her for thirty years or more, did not recognize her at once, and had not the presence of mind to apologize. He had walked across his grounds, which had a servants' gate opening on Rue de Babylone, near the pavilion. As he would trust no one but himself to touch his beplumed lily, he had brought it in with his own hands. He placed it with his own hands on the table in the little studio. He removed with his own hands the enormous horn of white paper which protected it; and when he saw that the artist was fairly at work, he took a newspaper which Madame d'Estrelle sent to Madame Thierry every morning, and dozed in a corner of the studio. Julien expected Marcel, who had promised to attempt to effect the reconciliation which he had planned; but Marcel was detained by unexpected business and did not appear. Madame Thierry did not come down. Julien felt that he could not break the ice unassisted by his cousin; so he did not speak, but worked on, did his best, and thought of Julie. Uncle Antoine slept with one eye open. He felt agitated, excited, constrained, in the house of the woman he hated, and in sight of the hôtel d'Estrelle, where his new inamorata lived. He rose, walked back and forth in his squeaking shoes, sat down again, and, forgetting his lily for a moment, tried to talk with Julien. "Do you have much work?" he asked. "A good deal." "And people pay you well?" "Well enough. I have no reason to complain." "How much do you earn a day?" "About thirty francs, taking one day with another," said Julien, with a smile. "That's not very much; but your father at your age didn't earn so much as that, and you will increase your prices from year to year, I suppose?" "I hope so and expect so." "You lead a temperate and regular life, so I am told?" "I am forced to do so, uncle." "You don't go into society, I imagine?" "I have no time for that." "But you know some people of quality?" "Those who were friends of my father have not forgotten me." "Do you sometimes pay visits?" "Rarely, and only when it is necessary." "Do you know the Baronne d'Ancourt?" "I know her name, nothing more." "Isn't she a friend of Madame d'Estrelle?" "I have no idea." "But you know Madame d'Estrelle?" "No, uncle." "You have never seen her?" "Never." Julien told this lie with resolution. It seemed to him that everybody was trying to pry into his secret, and he had determined to conceal it more securely with a cloak of savage distrust.