"Oh, yes! so that madame may torment herself, and so that she won't be able to feed her son at all. No indeed, I will take pains not to tell her."

"But, mademoiselle, it's for the child's good!"

"But I don't choose to make madame feel badly."

Jasmin made up his mind like a devoted servant: he went to his master.

Monsieur de Grandvilain was lying on his couch, enveloped in his morning gown; his head was covered with a jaunty green velvet cap, which he was careful to place over the ear which he no longer had. For some time the old marquis had had the habit of moving his jaws, as one does when one is sucking or eating something, and that constant movement gave his face the appearance of a nut-cracker. Those persons who were not aware of this trick of the marquis, waited, before speaking to him, for him to finish swallowing what he was chewing; but they waited in vain, for the jaws continued to make the same movement.

Since the occasion of the fireworks, Monsieur de Grandvilain had treated his valet with less affability. However, Jasmin's face bore so many scars that his master could hardly bear him ill-will for an accident of which he had been the second victim.

"What do you want of me, Jasmin?" said Monsieur de Grandvilain, when he saw that his valet stood before him with an embarra.s.sed air.

"Monsieur, I hope that you will excuse me for what I am going to say, but it is my attachment for you and our young marquis that has decided me to speak."

"I am aware of your attachment, Jasmin, although the proofs of it which you have given me have sometimes had unfortunate results."

As he spoke, Monsieur de Grandvilain scratched the place where his ear should have been.

"Well, what have you to tell me?"

Jasmin glanced about him, walked closer to his master, and said in a low voice and with a mysterious air:

"Let me tell you, monsieur, that your son is melting----"

The old man fell back on his couch and gazed anxiously at his servant, exclaiming:

"Melting! my son! Great heaven! has he fallen into the stove?"

"When I say melting, my dear master, I mean simply falling away, that he has lost five ounces, neither more nor less, since the day he was born."

"The devil take you, Jasmin, you gave me a horrible fright! I wonder if you will never be any less stupid!"

"It was my attachment for you, monsieur, that made me think that I ought to tell you. Turlurette has weighed our little Cherubin, and she is sure of what she says. She doesn't dare to tell madame, but I thought it was better to tell you; for if the child goes on like this, in a few months he won't weigh anything at all."

Monsieur de Grandvilain sadly shook his head.

"In truth," he said, "my son is not making any progress. He is taking on a yellowish color that surprises me, for both his mother and I are very white. Ah! my poor Jasmin, I am beginning to think that we should have children when we are young, because then they inherit our strength."

"Nonsense, monsieur! You are strong enough! You are a perfect horse when you choose! Our Cherubin was magnificent when he was born, as you must remember. If he is doing badly now, it's only because he doesn't eat enough. Madame fondles him and pets him--that's all very well; but perhaps the little rascal would prefer some wine and a cutlet."

"A cutlet! Are you mad, Jasmin? Whoever heard of giving cutlets to children three months old?"

"Perhaps it would be better for them than milk, no one knows. If I was a nurse, I'd try the experiment."

"In truth, Jasmin, you recall to my mind the fact that the grandfather of our good Henri IV gave his son wine to drink a few moments after he was born; and it did the child no harm; far from it, for Henri IV was a regular devil in every way. Judging from that, I believe that my son, who is past three months, might safely swallow a drop of generous wine."

"Surely, monsieur, wine can never do any harm, and you have such good wine! Our little Cherubin, instead of turning yellow, will become a very devil like the great king; and if with that you would venture to let him suck a cutlet----"

"The wine will be enough, with a little beef juice perhaps. If only madame la marquise will consent to let the child change his food!"

"Why, look you, monsieur, the little fellow is our son, after all! If madame doesn't give him enough to eat, we have the right to do as we please. Deuce take it! A man doesn't have a child every day, and if you should have to try it over again, I think that----"

"Yes, Jasmin, yes, I will be firm. As my heir's welfare is at stake, I will show my strength of character."

And monsieur le marquis, rising from his couch, betook himself to his wife's apartment, leaning on the arm of Jasmin, who repeated constantly on the way:

"Give him wine to drink, monsieur, give him some good strong soups to eat, and I will bet that within a month he will have recovered his five ounces!"

Madame de Grandvilain had not dared to confess to her husband that she had no milk to give their son; she had bought nursing bottles, and when the marquis was not there, the child was given the bottle; but as soon as his father arrived, she played nurse again, and little Cherubin was given a sterile bosom, which supplied him with no nourishment.

When Monsieur de Grandvilain unexpectedly entered madame's chamber, as she was not looking for her husband at that moment, she did not have time to put the bottle out of the way, and Cherubin was still attached to it.

"What's this, my dear love?" said monsieur le marquis, scrutinizing what his son was sucking.

"My dear," said madame, sorely confused, "it's a supplement."

"A supplement! The deuce, my dear love, you use a supplement, and without letting me know?"

"My dear, there are times when my milk doesn't flow freely, and we must not let this dear little fellow suffer on that account."

"Certainly not, madame, but if you had only confessed to me sooner that you use a supplement, I, for my part, should not have hesitated to tell you that I wished to change our son's diet. He is not making progress, marchioness, that is evident. I believe that milk is not what he needs.

I am less surprised since I find that it is not yours. In short, I propose to try another method; I propose to give my son wine to drink."

"Wine, my dear! Can you think of such a thing! A child of three months!"

"Who was magnificent when he came into the world, and who is visibly pining away with your bottle. I will give him claret, that is a mild and generous wine. If that works well, later we will try burgundy."

"But, monsieur, on the contrary, the very lightest things, a.s.s's milk, is what Cherubin needs!"

"a.s.s's milk for my son! Fie, madame! I will not listen to such a thing.

Can it be that you would like to make an a.s.s of him? He shall drink wine."

"He shall drink milk."

For the first time the husband and wife quarrelled, and neither of them would give way.

Monsieur de Grandvilain took his son in his arms, carried him to his room, ordered Jasmin to bring a bottle of old claret, and gave some spoonfuls of it to his heir.

The child swallowed the wine without making too wry a face; in a few moments his little cheeks flushed, and the old valet, who was a.s.sisting his master to pour wine into little Cherubin, exclaimed:

"Look, monsieur le marquis, look! already our son's color is coming back! He is better already, and recovering his strength. Oh! what an excellent idea it was to give him wine! Let us go on, master. He turns his eyes toward us; I think that he wants some more."

Monsieur de Grandvilain thought that it was better to be prudent the first time and not to make the dose too large; so he returned to his wife and gave her the child, saying:

"Madame, Cherubin is better already; his color has come back and his eyes shine like diamonds. I shall continue what I have begun to-day, and you will see that our heir will be the better for it."

Madame made no reply, but as soon as her husband had left the room, she called Turlurette and said to her:

"Dear Turlurette, just see what a state they have put this poor little fellow in! He smells frightfully of wine, and I believe that he is tipsy!"