All his old prejudices were
reviving; it was as if he were going to some ogre's den. How many times
had he not heard his mother say "that creature!" in referring to the
woman with whom her elder son cohabited. Never had she been willing to
kiss Guillaume's boys; the whole connection had shocked her, and she was
particularly indignant that Madame Leroi, the woman's mother, should have
joined the household for the purpose of bringing up the little ones.
Pierre retained so strong a recollection of all this that even nowadays,
when he went to the basilica of the Sacred Heart and passed the little
house on his way, he glanced at it distrustfully, and kept as far from it
as he could, as if it were some abode of vice and error. Undoubtedly, for
ten years now, the boys' mother had been dead, but did not another
scandal-inspiring creature dwell there, that young orphan girl to whom
his brother had given shelter, and whom he was going to marry, although a
difference of twenty years lay between them? To Pierre all this was
contrary to propriety, abnormal and revolting, and he pictured a home
given over to social rebellion, where lack of principle led to every kind
of disorder.
However, he was leaving the room to start upon his journey, when
Guillaume called him back. "Tell Madame Leroi," said he, "that if I
should die you will let her know of it, so that she may immediately do
what is necessary.
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