Three months after these events, in January, 1837, Ursule was married to Savinien, with the consent of Madame de Portenduère. Minoret became a party to the marriage settlements so as to give Mademoiselle Mirouët his estate of Le Rouvre and twenty-four thousand francs a year in the Funds, keeping nothing of his fortune except his uncle’s house and six thousand francs a year. He has become the most charitable, the most pious man in Nemours; he is churchwarden of the parish and has constituted himself the providence of all unfortunates.
“The poor have taken my son’s place,” he said.
If you have ever remarked beside the way, in countries where oaks are lopped off, some old tree, blanched and almost withered, still pushing forth shoots, with gaping sides, calling for the axe, you will have some idea of the thin, white-haired, broken down old postmaster, in whom the veterans of the country do not recognize the happy imbecile whom we saw waiting for his son at the beginning of this story; he no longer takes his snuff in the same manner, he carries something besides his body. In short, one feels in every way that God’s hand has been laid heavily upon this figure to make a terrible example of him. After having so hated his uncle’s ward, this old man, like Doctor Minoret, has so thoroughly centred his affections in Ursule, that he has constituted himself manager of her estates in Nemours.
Monsieur and Madame de Portenduère spend five
