“The model valet seems to me as if he were deaf,” said Daréna, laughing at Jasmin’s expression; while Monsieur de Monfréville, who had been scrutinizing the old servant closely, walked toward him and fastening his eyes upon him, said in a half-serious, half-mocking tone: “Do you mean that you don’t know what you have done with your young master?” “Yes, yes!” replied Jasmin; “monsieur le marquis is at Gagny.” “At Gagny! Is there a college there?” demanded the notary. “Gagny, near Villemonble. Oh! I know that place,” said Daréna; “it’s a small village; there are some fine estates in the neighborhood, but not a restaurant in the whole region. I went there with two dancers from the Opéra, and we could not even obtain a rabbit stew, the inevitable dish in the country. But there never was a college at Gagny; I don’t even know of a boarding-school there.” “Tell us, Monsieur Jasmin,” said the notary in a stern tone, “where is young Grandvilain staying at Gagny?” The old servant made up his mind and replied with an almost proud air: “At his nurse’s, monsieur.” At those words the notary was speechless, Monfréville began to laugh, and Daréna rolled about in his chair. “At his nurse’s!” repeated the notary at last. “Is it possible, Jasmin, that the young marquis is still at his nurse’s, at sixteen years and a half?” “Yes, monsieur; but never fear, he is none the less well educated; I found a teacher for him, the village schoolmaster, Monsieur Gérondif, who teaches him all that it is possible to teach.” Daréna roared with laughter anew, when he heard the name of the tutor. “Educated at his nurse’s!” he cried; “that is delicious; it’s a new method, and perhaps it will become fashionable. I am tempted to return to my nurse myself.” “Monsieur Jasmin,” said the notary, “I cannot understand how you can have left your master’s son with peasants up to this time. I consider you very reprehensible; you should at least have consulted me.” The old servant, who was sorely vexed, began to shout at the top of his lungs: “Monsieur, I am my master’s servant! I am not the man to thwart him and to use force upon him, and it is not my fault if Monsieur Chérubin does not want to leave Nicole, his nurse, and his little foster-sister.” “Aha! so there’s a little foster-sister, is there? I begin to understand the young man’s obstinacy,” said Daréna; “and how old might the foster-sister be?” “Two years younger than my young master,--about fourteen and a half.” “And is she pretty?” “Why, yes, monsieur, she’s a fine slip of a girl.” “Monsieur Jasmin,” continued the notary, “things cannot go on like this; it is my duty to straighten out this affair; my friendship for the late Monsieur de Grandvilain imposes that duty upon me, and you too must understand that a child of a good family, the son of your former master, ought not to pass his best years in a village.”