But the agreeable young man made a conquest of the rest of the family by his exquisite good-nature and cordial, easy manner.  Respectful and simple with Madame Gerard, whom he intimidated a little, he paid very little attention to Maria and did not appear to notice that he was exciting her curiosity to the highest pitch.  He modestly asked Father Gerard’s advice upon his project of painting, amusing himself with the knickknacks about the apartments, picking out by instinct the best engravings and canvases of value.  The good man was enchanted with Maurice and hastened to show him his private museum, forgetting all about his pipe—­he was smoking at present a Garibaldi—­and presented him his last engraving, where one saw—­it certainly was a fatality that pursued the old republican!—­the Emperor Napoleon III, at Magenta, motionless upon his horse in the centre of a square of grenadiers, cut down by grape and canister.

Maurice’s visit was short, and as Amedee had thought a great deal about little Maria for several days, he asked his friend, as he conducted him a part of the way: 

“What did you think of her?”

Maurice simply replied, “Delicious!” and changed the conversation.

CHAPTER VI

DREAMS OF LOVE

Solemn moment approached for the two friends.  They were to take their examinations for graduation.  Upon the days when M. Violette—­they now called him at the office “Father Violette,” he had grown so aged and decrepit—­was not too much “consoled” in the cafe in the Rue du Four, and when he was less silent and gloomy than usual, he would say to his son, after the soup: 

“Do you know, Amedee, I shall not be easy in my mind until you have received your degree.  Say what they may, it leads to everything.”

To everything indeed!  M. Violette had a college friend upon whom all the good marks had been showered, who, having been successively schoolmaster, journalist, theatrical critic, a boarder in Mazas prison, insurance agent, director of an athletic ring—­he quoted Homer in his harangue—­at present pushed back the curtains at the entrance to the Ambigu, and waited for his soup at the barracks gate, holding out an old tomato-can to be filled.

But M. Violette had no cause to fear!  Amedee received his degree on the same day with his friend Maurice, and both passed honorably.  A little old man with a head like a baboon—­the scientific examiner—­tried to make Amedee flounder on the subject of nitrogen, but he passed all the same.  One can hope for everything nowadays.

But what could Amedee hope for first?  M. Violette thought of it when he was not at his station at the Rue du Four.  What could he hope for?  Nothing very great.