“Neither are we of the same generation. Ideas change several times in a single century, and one generation does not reason like the following. Your father and I have seen the war of 1870, invasion and ruin on every side, and we remember what a ransom we had to pay. That has made us parsimonious for the rest of our days. You came into the world only when prosperity had returned; you have been brought up under the breath of Republican ideas. Your thoughts are quite different from ours; you are an advocate for equality. We are nothing of the kind. My father inspired in me respect for caste. I have less consideration for a tradesman than for a mill-proprietor, more respect for a lawyer, a magistrate, or a notary, than for a painter or man of letters. It is my nature. I cannot change if I would. I am well aware that ideas are changing all round me, but I shall die impenitent. Your generation has no bump of veneration as ours had. You consider yourself on the same footing as an elderly man, famous and respected, and you treat him on the most familiar terms. That is something which would be impossible for me, any more than I should expect the foreman at the works to look upon me as his equal, and pat me familiarly on the shoulder. Possibly you and your companions may be right, but I don’t think so. At any rate we shall see what your children will be like, if you have any, for even family life is another institution quite out of fashion now.” “Well, uncle, you have a very effective way of discussing, without giving yourself any pretensions! Father would long ago have called me a fool, without offering the slightest argument. With you, it is different, and when I listen to you I am by no means sure that I am right. Besides, you are so kind and tolerant, Uncle Graff, that I do not feel myself capable of resisting you for any length of time!” “Ah, you little rogue! Now you are flattering me; you know how to make me do as you wish. At bottom you are a sly fox, and I believe you trick the lot of us!” “Oh! Uncle Graff!” “Come now, you are not so nice as that for nothing,” said the old bachelor, with a laugh. “What is it you want me to do for you now?” “Nothing, upon my word, uncle. I am perfectly sincere in everything I have just said!” “Then you are conducting yourself very well just now.” Marcel raised his eyes, and said calmly— “How could I do anything else here?” “Ah! Do you think you could not find an opportunity if you wanted? I really believe that if you were thrown on to a desert island you would find means to fall in love and get into debt, even there!” “But who would pay them if my Uncle Graff were not at hand?” “You are jesting with me, you rascal!” “No, I am quite serious. I never leave my laboratory except for a walk in the woods; and I have not spent twenty-five francs since I came here.”