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Updated: October 20, 2024
Fabien du Ronceret had no mind for the magistracy, the bar, or the civil service, and his pronounced turn for doing nothing drove his parent to despair. On this head there was rivalry between the President and the Vice-President, old M. Blondet. M. Blondet, for a long time past, had been sedulously cultivating an acquaintance between his son and the Blandureau family.
As for Fabien, he has made up his mind to receive a call to the bar, so as to gain an appointment as judge." Old Blondet dropped the flower-pot which he had brought out for the Duchess to see. "Oh, my cactus! Oh, my son! and Mlle. Blandureau!... Look here! the cactus flower is broken to pieces." "No," Mme. Camusot answered, laughing; "everything can be put right.
It is lucky for him that the President has taken this journey to turn us out, for now that great oaf of a Joseph Blondet will marry Mlle. Blandureau. I will let Father Blondet have some seeds in return. As for you, Camusot, go to M. Michu's, while Mme. la Duchesse and I will go to find old Blondet.
You are very young, sir, to be a horticulturist." "Dear M. Blondet, never mind your flowers," said Mme. Camusot. "/You/ are concerned, you and your hopes, and your son's marriage with Mlle. Blandureau. You are duped by the President." "Bah!" said old Blondet, with an incredulous air. "Yes," retorted she.
Chesnel's successor, the du Roncerets' man, had just fallen into a snare set by the old judge; the truth was out, he knew the secret. "It is lucky that we spoke to you about the matter, my dear master," said Camusot, "or you might have given up all hope of seating your son on the bench or of marrying him to Mlle. Blandureau."
As for Fabien, he has made up his mind to receive a call to the bar, so as to gain an appointment as judge." Old Blondet dropped the flower-pot which he had brought out for the Duchess to see. "Oh, my cactus! Oh, my son! and Mlle. Blandureau! . . . Look here! the cactus flower is broken to pieces." "No," Mme. Camusot answered, laughing; "everything can be put right.
You are very young, sir, to be a horticulturist." "Dear M. Blondet, never mind your flowers," said Mme. Camusot. "You are concerned, you and your hopes, and your son's marriage with Mlle. Blandureau. You are duped by the President." "Bah!" said old Blondet, with an incredulous air. "Yes," retorted she.
Fabien du Ronceret had no mind for the magistracy, the bar, or the civil service, and his pronounced turn for doing nothing drove his parent to despair. On this head there was rivalry between the President and the Vice-President, old M. Blondet. M. Blondet, for a long time past, had been sedulously cultivating an acquaintance between his son and the Blandureau family.
The Blandureaus were well-to-do linen manufacturers, with an only daughter, and it was on this daughter that the President had fixed his choice of a wife for Fabien. Now, Joseph Blondet's marriage with Mlle. Blandureau depended on his nomination to the post which his father, old Blondet, hoped to obtain for him when he himself should retire.
It is lucky for him that the President has taken this journey to turn us out, for now that great oaf of a Joseph Blondet will marry Mlle. Blandureau. I will let Father Blondet have some seeds in return. As for you, Camusot, go to M. Michu's, while Mme. la Duchesse and I will go to find old Blondet.
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