"Hum! that would be serious; but excuse me, I see over there a worthy man whom I wish to introduce to you--Roch Plancoët, my poor father's foster brother." "Madame Verdon just spoke of him to me." "Then you already know that he is the best friend we have in the world. He has been devoted to my sister and myself from our earliest infancy. He might have made a fortune in the business--he was in a fair way of doing so--but he has come to live in Paris on an income of six thousand francs a year, because he couldn't exist without seeing Gabrielle. We will have a chat with him if you don't mind. Here, Plancoët!" The promenader looked up, recognised Albert, and hastened towards him. "How are you, old fellow?" asked the young lieutenant, slapping him familiarly on the shoulder. "You must take a glass of beer with us. Sit down. Do you see this gentleman? Well, he is Gabrielle's intended husband." M. Plancoët did not seem to be very much surprised by this abrupt announcement, but he looked searchingly at George, who returned the scrutiny with interest. This faithful friend of the Verdon family seemed to be about fifty years of age, and he was still strong and hearty. His strong features bespoke unusual energy, and strength of mind. His eyes were keen and intelligent, and his smile had much of the patient sweetness of a man accustomed to sacrifice himself for others. In short, his appearance was decidedly prepossessing, and George instantly conceived a strong liking to him. "I trust, sir," he said, almost affectionately, "that Mademoiselle Verdon's marriage will not part you from her. You will always be most welcome at my wife's house." "I thank you for this assurance," replied M. Plancoët, quietly but earnestly, "though I must admit that I was not unprepared for it. Gabrielle has so often spoken of you, and always in such high terms, that I relied as implicitly upon your hospitality as you can rely upon my devotion." "Monsieur Caumont doesn't doubt that, my dear Roch," interposed Albert. "I have told him all about you. But I have another piece of news for you--one that is much less agreeable in its nature." "Your mother's intended marriage," said Plancoët, sadly. "That isn't necessary, my boy. She announced it to me this morning. But what about yourself, what have you been doing since I saw you last?--more than six months ago--for our meeting at the door of your mother's house does not count, as you merely said two or three words to me, and then rushed off like a madman." "Tell you what I have been doing? Being bored to death--that is about all. If you think military life very enjoyable, you are greatly mistaken." "You doubtless found it very dull while in garrison; but you seem to have been making up for it since your arrival in Paris. Your sister vainly expected you all the morning, and she is very cross with you in consequence." "We are reconciled. Besides, although I dined at the Lion d'Or yesterday, I shall dine at home this evening."