Some might have bent.  I preferred to break.

We are strangers for life.  I have just seen him to the landing of my staircase.

He came here about a quarter of an hour ago, proud, and, I may say, swaggering, as he does over his learned friends when he has found a flaw in one of their pleadings.

“Well, nephew?”

“Well, uncle?”

“I’ve got some news for you.”

“Indeed?”

M. Mouillard banged his hat down furiously upon my table.

“Yes, you know my maxim:  when anything does not seem quite clear to me—­”

“You ferret it out.”

“Quite so; I have always found it answer.  Your business did not seem clear to me.  Was Mademoiselle Charnot betrothed, or was she not?  To what extent had she encouraged your attentions?  You never would have told me the story correctly, and I never should have known.  That being so, I put my maxim into practice, and went to see her father.”

“You did that?”

“Certainly I did.”

“You have been to see Monsieur Charnot?”

“In the Rue de l’Universite.  Wasn’t it the simplest thing to do?  Besides,
I was not sorry to make the acquaintance of a member of the Institute. 
And I must admit that he behaved very nicely to me—­not a bit stuck up.”

“And you told him?”

“My name to begin with:  Brutus Mouillard.  He reflected a bit, just a moment, and recalled your appearance:  a shy youth, a bachelor of arts, wearing an eyeglass.”

“Was that all his description?”

“Yes, he remembered seeing you at the National Library, and once at his house.  I said to him, ‘That is my nephew, Monsieur Charnot.’  He replied, ’I congratulate you, sir; he seems a youth of parts.’—­’That he is, but his heart is very inflammable.’—­’At his age, sir, who is not liable to take fire?’ That was how we began.  Your friend Monsieur Charnot has a pretty wit.  I did not want to be behindhand with him, so I answered, ‘Well, sir, it caught fire in your house.’  He started with fright and looked all round the room.  I was vastly amused.  Then we came to explanations.  I put the case before him, that you were in love with his daughter, without my consent, but with perfectly honorable intentions; that I had guessed it from your letters, from your unpardonable neglect of your duties to your family, and that I hurried hither from Bourges to take in the situation.  With that I concluded, and waited for him to develop.  There are occasions when you must let people develop.  I could not jump down his throat with, ’Sir, would you kindly tell me whether your daughter is betrothed or not?’ You follow me?  He thought, no doubt, I had come to ask for his daughter’s hand, and passing one hand over his forehead, he replied, ’Sir, I feel greatly flattered by your proposal, and I should certainly give it my serious attention, were it not that my daughter’s hand is already sought by