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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Oh, mother! you are a mother just as Raphael was a painter. And you will always be a fool of a mother!" Madame Bridau's mind, diverted before long from her griefs by the distractions of the journey, began to dwell on the purpose of it. She re-read the letter of Madame Hochon, which had so stirred up the lawyer Desroches.
Goddet, who was at the banquet in his quality of former army surgeon, was requested to be present at the meeting. The seconds agreed that, no matter what might happen, the combat should last only ten minutes. At eleven o'clock that night, to Colonel Bridau's amazement, Monsieur Hochon appeared at his rooms just as he was going to bed, escorting Madame Hochon.
To make sure of protectors for her son, Madame Gilet was careful not to enlighten his reputed fathers as to his parentage. In Paris, she would have turned out a millionaire; at Issoudun she lived sometimes at her ease, more often miserably, and, in the long run, despised. Madame Hochon, Lousteau's sister, paid sixty francs a year for the lad's schooling.
"Where is your guest?" said Monsieur Mouilleron to Monsieur Hochon. "He has gone to walk in the country, I believe." "Call Gritte," said the judge gravely. "I was in hopes he had not left the house. You are aware that the crime was committed not far from here, at daybreak." While Monsieur Hochon went to find Gritte, the three functionaries looked at each other significantly.
I was sure of it!" cried the poor imbecile. "See, here is a letter Maxence has written to my grandson Borniche," said old Hochon. "Read it." "What infamy!" exclaimed Carpentier, as he listened to the letter, which Rouget read aloud, weeping. "Is that plain enough, uncle?" demanded Philippe. "Hold that hussy by her interests and she'll adore you as you deserve."
I hope however that I shall not be driven to such dangerous expedients. Remember me to Mariette and all our friends. Agathe, informed by Madame Hochon of what had happened, rushed to Issoudun, and was received by her brother, who gave her Philippe's former room.
To a friendly admonition which Madame Hochon addressed to him in a low voice, he replied that he had reflected deeply while in prison, and could promise that in future he would live another life. On a hint from Philippe, Monsieur Hochon went out with him when he took his leave.
Some persons insisted that the painter was maltreated by Max; others that he had misbehaved to Flore, and that Max had turned him out of doors. "What a child your son is!" said Hochon to Madame Bridau; "the booby is the dupe of a scene which they have been keeping back for the last day of his visit.
When the street-door was shut, Monsieur Hochon, little suspecting the intimacy between his grandsons and Max, threw one of his slyest looks at his wife and Agathe, remarking, "He is just as capable of writing that note as I am of giving away twenty-five louis; it is the soldier who is corresponding with us!" "What does that portend?" asked Madame Hochon. "Well, never mind; we will answer him.
Though fifteen years older than his wife, the miser hoped to inherit her fortune, and to become eventually the sole master of their whole property. That hope was a fixed idea with him. Madame Hochon knew that the best means of obtaining a few concessions from her husband was to threaten him with her will. Monsieur Hochon now took sides with his guests.
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