Yet Sophy’s mother questions the master.  “Sir, how much do you pay these two men a day?” “I give them each tenpence a day and their food; but if that young fellow wanted he could earn much more, for he is the best workman in the country.”  “Tenpence a day and their food,” said she looking at us tenderly.  “That is so, madam,” replied the master.  At these words she hurries up to Emile, kisses him, and clasps him to her breast with tears; unable to say more she repeats again and again, “My son, my son!”

When they had spent some time chatting with us, but without interrupting our work, “We must be going now,” said the mother to her daughter, “it is getting late and we must not keep your father waiting.”  Then approaching Emile she tapped him playfully on the cheek, saying, “Well, my good workman, won’t you come with us?” He replied sadly, “I am at work, ask the master.”  The master is asked if he can spare us.  He replies that he cannot.  “I have work on hand,” said he, “which is wanted the day after to-morrow, so there is not much time.  Counting on these gentlemen I refused other workmen who came; if they fail me I don’t know how to replace them and I shall not be able to send the work home at the time promised.”  The mother said nothing, she was waiting to hear what Emile would say.  Emile hung his head in silence.  “Sir,” she said, somewhat surprised at this, “have you nothing to say to that?” Emile looked tenderly at her daughter and merely said, “You see I am bound to stay.”  Then the ladies left us.  Emile went with them to the door, gazed after them as long as they were in sight, and returned to his work without a word.

On the way home, the mother, somewhat vexed at his conduct, spoke to her daughter of the strange way in which he had behaved.  “Why,” said she, “was it so difficult to arrange matters with the master without being obliged to stay.  The young man is generous enough and ready to spend money when there is no need for it, could not he spend a little on such a fitting occasion?” “Oh, mamma,” replied Sophy, “I trust Emile will never rely so much on money as to use it to break an engagement, to fail to keep his own word, and to make another break his!  I know he could easily give the master a trifle to make up for the slight inconvenience caused by his absence; but his soul would become the slave of riches, he would become accustomed to place wealth before duty, and he would think that any duty might be neglected provided he was ready to pay.  That is not Emile’s way of thinking, and I hope he will never change on my account.  Do you think it cost him nothing to stay?  You are quite wrong, mamma; it was for my sake that he stayed; I saw it in his eyes.”