"It isn't on your account that I say it, but your father's. So, then, it's agreed. It is broad daylight now; I have slept enough, but you need rest. Go to bed; during the day, you can speak to your father, and come and tell me what he says. I'll expect you at six o'clock, at the Café de la Rotonde." "Agreed." "By the way, I forgot! Lend me a dozen louis; I owe you thirty already, but we will settle up when I get my next remittance from my aunt." "That's all right; ought there to be any settling among friends?" "Ah! my dear Frédéric, there aren't many friends like you!" Dubourg pocketed the twelve louis which Frédéric handed him; then, leaving his friend to go to bed, he went away from the house, humming a new couplet, and strolled along the boulevards, as well pleased as if he had just been appointed to a twelve-thousand-franc office where he would have nothing to do. During the day, Frédéric went to see his father. He trembled slightly when he appeared before him, and the count, instead of assisting his son to confide in him, waited silently for him to say what he wanted. Having bowed respectfully, Frédéric began his speech, in which he floundered a little at times, because the count's eyes, fastened on his face, seemed determined to read his inmost thoughts. He set forth his project, however, and awaited in fear and trembling his father's reply. The count seemed to reflect, and did not speak for some minutes. Frédéric dared not break the silence, and at last the count spoke. "You wish to leave Paris, Frédéric?" "Yes, monsieur le comte." "Are you tired already of its pleasures--balls and parties? It is rather early for that." Frédéric sighed, but made no reply. "You haven't told me everything," continued the count, with a sarcastic smile. "Confess that some disappointment in love----" Frédéric blushed, and lowered his eyes; whereupon the count went on, in a gentler tone: "Well, all that sort of thing belongs to your age. Travel; I am willing; it cannot fail to be useful to you. But if your presence should become necessary, I trust that nothing would delay your return?" "Oh! father, a single word from you, and I will be with you." "Very good; I rely upon your word." "A friend of mine, a young man named Dubourg, of an old Breton family, is also making arrangements to travel for some time. If you are willing, I will join forces with him." "No, monsieur; I am not willing. I have heard of this Monsieur Dubourg, whom you call your friend, and, although I have seen him with you only two or three times, I know enough of him to be unwilling that he should be my son's travelling companion. His family is respectable, I know, but Monsieur Dubourg is a great reprobate, they say." "I promise you, father----"