Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

triilinu, perhaps, in the eyes of some, but in reality one f
since it invariably more or less corrupts the
.'uerosity of his father, as well as the prosperous
state of his finances. It must, however, be owned that Henri
spent his money nobly. He was always ready to assist the
poor of the neighborhood, and to oblige his school-fellows.
In our various conversations, Henri often spoke to me of his
he was astonished, he said, to see his father persist
prospects ;
in continuing his trade ; and he was still more surprised that
he should purchase good farms at high prices rather than some
old castle, which would have raised his position in life, and
given him importance in society.
Mr. Georges, however, completely disregarded these vain
ideas of his son ; he was a worthy man, his countenance was
intelligent and benevolent, but his figure was extremely vulgar
; he was very short, prodigiously stout, and his dress was
invariably negligent and badly chosen.
These latter were certainly not the characteristics of a noble
chatelain, such as poor Henri would have wished to depict him
to our imaginations. Generally, when he visited the school,
he was first subjected to the impertinent criticisms of his son,
whose attention was invariably directed to the dress of his father,
and Henri would often exhaust, in impertinent and
foolish remarks, that time which ought to have been delightfully
spent in the interchange of mutual affection. The good
man would listen to his son with patience, then, with an ex-
pression of reproachful pity, he would slightly shrug his
shoulders, and abruptly change the conversation.
This improper conduct, on the part of Henri, was so often
repeated, that at length it aroused the malicious curiosity of
the pupils, and there was a daily deluge of jokes on the unknown
trade of Mr. Georges, a trade which all agreed in pronouncing
very lucrative, but of which no one could discover
the nature; for Henri would endure no raillery on the subject,
and roughly silenced every question relative to this delicate
point.
Mr. Georges was in the habit of giving an annual fete champetre,
to which he invited all the pupils, without exception, and
a it happy day was for us.
Early in the morning our kind host would send carriages to
take us to his country house, at Belleville, where a magnificent
breakfast awaited our arrival; after a part of the day spent in
various games, we had a splendid dinner; the evening concluded
with a concert and ball, and the whole was arranged
with so much taste and kindness that, for a month at least, the
most malicious and discontented could not find the least cause
For nearly two years I had been the constant companion of
Henri, and our friendship had never once been disturbed; for,
without the fault I have mentioned, my friend would have been
perfect; and yet I did not appreciate him as he deserved.
I had still a long course of study before me, and I was anti-
cipating the enjoyment of my friend's society
f,'lf. I .V/>/.'.l 77MV,' KEBOVAN.
for at least
eighteen mouths longer, when, one morning, the principal
called me into his study; ho held in his hand a letter, sealed
with black My father was dead ! and I had not been summoned
to receive his last blessing, or hear his last wishes !
I had only some poor relatives, who resided at a distance, and
my father had died insolvent; I was a beggar.
I must leave the college before having finished my education;
I must renounce all hope of an honorable profession,
and endure the misery of a life of poverty, and I was but
sixteen !
Overwhelmed with grief, I tiew to Henri for consolation.
"Oh! do not weep thus," said he; "depend upon my fri>
r of those infected by it.
Henri's beMtting sin was vanity, and unfortunately he en-
in: . joyrd which givatly contributed to foster
and encourage thia ship your
fault, nor did he make the slightest effort
either to conceal or subdue it. His Cither was said to be immensely
rich, and Henri was more favored than the other pupils.
In addition to the lessons which we shared, he received
others from first-class masters, and his purse, always well tilled,
tears break my heart."
At this moment tho ringing of the bell announced a visitor.
Mr. Georges was in the parlor, and Henri went to him.
A quarter of an hour had scarcely elapsed when I was summoned.
On my entrance, Mr. Georges came forward to meet
"
me, and, affectionately embracing me, said: Young man, I
am rich; you shall share as a brother with my son, until you
can, yourself, provide for your necessities, " and as tears choked
my utterance, he again tenderly embraced me, repeating, "I
will be your father."
Oh ! how noble and beautiful I now thought the countenance
which I had so often deemed coarse and vulgar. Kind anil
worthy man ! May God reward him for all the benefits lie
showered on me to him I owe a ; profession which I fondly
love a ; profession which enables me to defend the widow and
protect the orphan.
I remained the brother and intimate friend of my good
Henri, but I soon perceived that his unfortunate defect increased
with his years, and I was incessantly obliged to remon-
strate with him, calling to my aid his reason, and especially
his heart, which was still excellent.
For along period good Mr. Georges seldom came; his manner
towards his son became reserved, and occasionally he seemed to
have a difficulty in checking expressions of evident, disapproval
of that odious vanity, which, with all its hideous results, at
length became so evident to his eyes; but an entreating look from
Henri would make him pause, and the affectionate father
seemed to shrink from inflicting humiliation on his son.
One day, as he was bidding Henri farewell, after they had
been walking in the college garden, an ignorant and conceited
youth, newly arrived at school, inquired who that vulgar old
man could possibly be.
Feeling more wounded in his vanity than grieved at this insult
to the best of parents, and, yielding to his wicked fuult l
Henri blushingly replied that the man was his father's stew-
ard.
In his confusion and anxiety Henri had spoken loudly
enough to be heard ; good Mr. Georges went away grieved
and dejected, and for a whole month he never visited us, but
after the expiration of that time all the pupils received an iiivi.
tatiou to Bellville.
As usual, there was to be a dinner and ball, and in addition
an illumination, to celebrate, as the note expressed, an extra-
ordinary event.
On this occasion our generous host even exceeded his previous
kindness and liberality. The whole of his house was
placed at our disposal, and every conceivable amusement was
procured for us. Henri's vanity was perfectly satisfied with
the luxury displayed by his father; twenty times he endeavored
to thank him, but Mr. Georges always silently and
quickly turned away from him.
After dinner we all assembled in the drawing-room; in the
middle was a small table, on which was placed a magnificent
ebony box inlaid with silver. Every eye was immediately attracted
towards this beautiful object. It had evidently been
placed where it was to serve some especial purpose, and our
curiosity was greatly excited when Mr. Georges, taking his
son's hand, placed him by his side, and spoke as follows:
"You know, my dear young friends, that I have always great
pleasure in welcoming you here; you are the companions of
my Henri, and this alone would give you a claim to my attention,
for you know how I love him.
"On this day he completes his seventeenth year;
he is no
longer a child, and he ought to be able to make a worthy use
of the fortiuie and title bequeathed to him by his ancestors.
This box contains the title deeds of our family, and I wish to
deliver them to Henri in your presence. May these precious
relics be respected by him, as by myself; and may the banner
of our ancestors incite him to imitate their honor and their
virtues.
" And now, my dear guests, allow me to relate a short history,
which is both instructive and amusing.