“It’s of no consequence,” he said; “I am not dressed yet.--For all that, my dear marquis, if I may venture to give you a piece of advice, I advise you to relieve your old Jasmin from the duty of waiting at table. His services will be ruinous to you and fatal to your friends. The excellent fellow has abundantly earned retirement and you must give it to him. I will go home to dress, and come back for you; for we will pass the day together, eh, Monfréville?” “That is my wish, if it will not annoy our young friend.” Chérubin hesitated a moment, then said falteringly: “But I intended to--to go to Gagny--to see my--my nurse.” “Oh! to-morrow! to-morrow!” cried Daréna; “we have too many things to do to-day; I will hurry home to dress and return at once.” Daréna took his leave. Monfréville would have liked to hint to his young friend that he would do well not to place too much confidence in the count’s manifestations of friendship for him; but if he attempted so soon to destroy the young man’s illusions, if he told him to be on his guard against false friends, selfish affections, the wiles of shopkeepers, and all the perils of Paris, would he not run the risk of disgusting him with that city, which he had consented to visit only with regret? “After all,” said Monfréville to himself, “Daréna is jovial and bright; he has the art of inventing some new pleasure every day, and even if his friendship should cost Chérubin a few thousand-franc notes, the youngster is rich, and one must needs pay for one’s apprenticeship in everything. Besides, I will keep an eye on our pupil, and I will try to see to it that his inexperience is not over-abused.--By the way, my young friend,” he said aloud, “what have you done with your tutor? He is to remain with you, is he not? Is he not well?” “Dear me! you are right!” cried Chérubin. “I had entirely forgotten Monsieur Gérondif!--Jasmin, go and inquire what my tutor is doing; ask him why he doesn’t come to breakfast.” Jasmin went to Monsieur Gérondifs room. The ex-schoolmaster was buried in his bed, sound asleep, and entirely hidden by the bedclothes and the pillows, which had fallen over his head. There was nothing save his snoring to indicate that the bed was occupied. The old servant put out his hand toward the pillow; it came in contact with Monsieur Gérondifs prominent nose, which he laid hold of and pulled violently, crying out: “Come, monsieur le savant, wake up; my master is asking for you.” Monsieur Gérondif opened his eyes and rescued his nose from the fingers that had grasped it. “What’s the matter?” he muttered; “what’s the meaning of this violence, and why wake me by the nose? That’s a new way, surely; rosy-fingered Aurora doesn’t treat the fair-haired Phœbus so.” But, on learning that his pupil had breakfasted, Monsieur Gérondif decided to rise; he made a hasty toilet and went down to pay his respects to the marquis.