Walking slowly along the boulevard Baron, the old celibate reflected, as much as he had the mind to reflect, over this incident.  If he were to part from Flore (the mere thought confused him) where could he find another woman?  Should he marry?  At his age he should be married for his money, and a legitimate wife would use him far more cruelly than Flore.  Besides, the thought of being deprived of her tenderness, even if it were a mere pretence, caused him horrible anguish.  He was therefore as polite to Captain Gilet as he knew how to be.  The invitation was given, as Flore had requested, before witnesses, to guard the hero’s honor from all suspicion.

A reconciliation took place between Flore and her master; but from that day forth Jean-Jacques noticed many a trifle that betokened a total change in his mistress’s affections.  For two or three weeks Flore Brazier complained to the tradespeople in the markets, and to the women with whom she gossiped, about Monsieur Rouget’s tyranny, —­how he had taken it into his head to invite his self-styled natural brother to live with him.  No one, however, was taken in by this comedy; and Flore was looked upon as a wonderfully clever and artful creature.  Old Rouget really found himself very comfortable after Max became the master of his house; for he thus gained a companion who paid him many attentions, without, however, showing any servility.  Gilet talked, discussed politics, and sometimes went to walk with Rouget.  After Max was fairly installed, Flore did not choose to do the cooking; she said it spoiled her hands.  At the request of the grand master of the Order of the Knights of Idleness, Mere Cognette produced one of her relatives, an old maid whose master, a curate, had lately died without leaving her anything,—­an excellent cook, withal,—­who declared she would devote herself for life or death to Max and Flore.  In the name of the two powers, Mere Cognette promised her an annuity of three hundred francs a year at the end of ten years, if she served them loyally, honestly, and discreetly.  The Vedie, as she was called, was noticeable for a face deeply pitted by the small-pox, and correspondingly ugly.

After the new cook had entered upon her duties, the Rabouilleuse took the title of Madame Brazier.  She wore corsets; she had silk, or handsome woollen and cotton dresses, according to the season, expensive neckerchiefs, embroidered caps and collars, lace ruffles at her throat, boots instead of shoes, and, altogether, adopted a richness and elegance of apparel which renewed the youthfulness of her appearance.  She was like a rough diamond, that needed cutting and mounting by a jeweller to bring out its full value.  Her desire was to do honor to Max.  At the end of the first year, in 1817, she brought a horse, styled English, from Bourges, for the poor cavalry captain, who was weary of going afoot.  Max had picked up in the purlieus of Issoudun an old lancer of the Imperial Guard, a Pole named Kouski, now very poor, who asked nothing better than to quarter himself in Monsieur Rouget’s house as the captain’s servant.  Max was Kouski’s idol, especially after the duel with the three royalists.  So, from 1817, the household of the old bachelor was made up of five persons, three of whom were masters, and the expenses advanced to about eight thousand francs a year.