The first-born was a boy, and he received the name of Edouard, with all his mother’s affection. When she became enceinte again, she did not doubt for an instant that she should bring into the world a pretty little Célénie; the birth of a daughter would have filled her cup to overflowing. But after long suffering, she brought into the world a bouncing boy. It will be understood that this one was not so warmly received as the first. Moreover, they had not had the slightest expectation of a boy, and they had not decided what name he should bear. But this time any previous deliberation upon that subject would have been wasted, for Monsieur Murville informed his wife that a friend of his desired to be his son’s godfather. This friend was very rich and they were under some obligation to him, so that they could not refuse him as godfather. So he held the child at the altar, and to the great scandal of Madame Murville, gave him the name of Jacques. In truth, although Jacques is as good a name as another, it is not very melodious, and it offended the delicate ear of Madame Murville, who maintained that it was a name fit for a footman, a Savoyard, a messenger, and that it was a shame to call her son by it. In vain did her husband try to make her listen to reason, and recite to her again and again the history of Scotland, where the throne had been occupied by many Jacqueses. Madame Murville could never pronounce that name without a sigh. However, there was no way to change it, for the godfather, who was naturally called Jacques also, and who came often to see his godson, would have been deeply offended to hear him called by any other name. So the little fellow remained Jacques, to the great distress of Madame Murville. As for Edouard, whether from a spirit of mischief on his part, or because the name pleased him, he called Brother Jacques every moment during the day; and when he had done anything naughty, he always shifted it to Brother Jacques’s shoulders. The two brothers were entirely different in disposition; Edouard placid, well-behaved, obliging, was glad to pass his day by his mother’s side; Jacques, noisy, boisterous, quick-tempered, could not keep still, and never went anywhere without turning everything upside down. Edouard learned readily what was told him; Jacques would throw his books and pens into the fire, and make a hoop or a wooden sword. Finally, at sixteen, Edouard went into company with his parents; he had already learned to listen to conversation and to smile pleasantly at a pretty woman. At fifteen, Jacques left his parents’ roof, and disappeared, leaving no letter behind, nothing to indicate his plans, or the purpose of his departure. They made all possible investigation and search; they put his description in the newspapers, but they never learned what had become of him; they waited for news of him, but none ever came.