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all the shutters at seven o'clock； summer or winter。 It is all
arranged very oddly。 As I come in I say to him：
〃 'You must get up and dress； my Lord Marquis。'
〃Then he rises and dresses himself。 I have to give him his dressing…
gown； and it is always after the same pattern； and of the same
material。 I am obliged to replace it when it can be used no longer；
simply to save him the trouble of asking for a new one。 A queer fancy！
As a matter of fact； he has a thousand francs to spend every day； and
he does as he pleases； the dear child。 And besides； I am so fond of
him that if he gave me a box on the ear on one side； I should hold out
the other to him！ The most difficult things he will tell me to do； and
yet I do them； you know！ He gives me a lot of trifles to attend to；
that I am well set to work！ He reads the newspapers； doesn't he？ Well；
my instructions are to put them always in the same place； on the same
table。 I always go at the same hour and shave him myself； and don't I
tremble！ The cook would forfeit the annuity of a thousand crowns that
he is to come into after my lord's death； if breakfast is not served
inconciliably at ten o'clock precisely。 The menus are drawn up for the
whole year round； day after day。 My Lord the Marquis has not a thing
to wish for。 He has strawberries whenever there are any； and he has
the earliest mackerel to be had in Paris。 The programme is printed
every morning。 He knows his dinner by rote。 In the next place； he
dresses himself at the same hour； in the same clothes； the same linen；
that I always put on the same chair； you understand？ I have to see
that he always has the same cloth； and if it should happen that his
coat came to grief （a mere supposition）； I should have to replace it
by another without saying a word about it to him。 If it is fine； I go
in and say to my master：
〃 'You ought to go out； sir。'
〃He says Yes； or No。 If he has a notion that he will go out； he
doesn't wait for his horses； they are always ready harnessed； the
coachman stops there inconciliably； whip in hand； just as you see him
out there。 In the evening； after dinner； my master goes one day to the
Opera； the other to the Italno； he hasn't yet gone to the
Italiens； though； for I could not find a box for him until yesterday。
Then he comes in at eleven o'clock precisely； to go to bed。 At any
time in the day when he has nothing to do； he readshe is always
reading； you seeit is a notion he has。 My instructions are to read
the Journal de la Librairie before he sees it； and to buy new books；
so that he finds them on his chimney…piece on the very day that they
are published。 I have orders to go into his room every hour or so； to
look after the fire and everything else； and to see that he wants
nothing。 He gave me a little book； sir； to learn off by heart； with
all my duties written in ita regular catechism！ In summer I have to
keep a cool and even temperature with blocks of ice and at all seasons
to put fresh flowers all about。 He is rich！ He has a thousand francs
to spend every day； he can indulge his fancies！ And he hadn't even
necessaries for so long； poor child！ He doesn't annoy anybody； he is
as good as gold； he never opens his mouth； for instance； the house and
garden are absolutely silent。 In short； my master has not a single
wish left； everything comes in the twinkling of an eye； if he raises
his hand； and INSTANTER。 Quite right； too。 If servants are not looked
after； everything falls into confusion。 You would never believe the
lengths he goes about things。 His rooms are allwhat do you call
it？ereren suite。 Very well； just suppose； now； that he opens his
room door or the door of his study； presto！ all the other doors fly
open of themselves by a patent contrivance； and then he can go from
one end of the house to the other and not find a single door shut；
which is all very nice and pleasant and convenient for us great folk！
But； on my word； it cost us a lot of money！ And； after all； M。
Porriquet； he said to me at last：
〃 'Jonathan； you will look after me as if I were a baby in long
clothes；' Yes； sir； 'long clothes！' those were his very words。 'You
will think of all my requirements for me。' I am the master； so to
speak； and he is the servant； you understand？ The reason of it？ Ah； my
word； that is just what nobody on earth knows but himself and God
Almighty。 It is quite inconciliable！〃
〃He is writing a poem！〃 exclaimed the old professor。
〃You think he is writing a poem； sir？ It's a very absorbing affair；
then！ But； you know； I don't think he is。 He wants to vergetate。 Only
yesterday he was looking at a tulip while he was dressing； and he said
to me：
〃 'There is my own lifeI am vergetating； my poor Jonathan。' Now；
some of them insist that that is monomania。 It is inconciliable！〃
〃All this makes it very clear to me； Jonathan；〃 the professor
answered； with a magisterial solemnity that greatly impressed the old
servant； 〃that your master is absorbed in a great work。 He is deep in
vast meditations； and has no wish to be distracted by the petty
preoccupations of ordinary life。 A man of genius forgets everything
among his intellectual labors。 One day the famous Newton〃
〃Newton？oh； ah！ I don't know the name；〃 said Jonathan。
〃Newton； a great geometrician；〃 Porriquet went on； 〃once sat for
twenty…four hours leaning his elbow on the table； when he emerged from
his musings； he was a day out in his reckoning； just as if he had been
sleeping。 I will go to see him； dear lad； I may perhaps be of some use
to him。〃
〃Not for a moment！〃 Jonathan cried。 〃Not though you were King of
FranceI mean the real old one。 You could not go in unless you forced
the doors open and walked over my body。 But I will go and tell him you
are here； M。 Porriquet； and I will put it to him like this； 'Ought he
to come up？' And he will say Yes or No。 I never say； 'Do you wish？' or
'Will you？' or 'Do you want？' Those words are scratched out of the
dictionary。 He let out at me once with a 'Do you want to kill me？' he
was so very angry。〃
Jonathan left the old schoolmaster in the vestibule； signing to him to
come no further； and soon returned with a favorable answer。 He led the
old gentleman through one magnificent room after another； where every
door stood open。 At last Porriquet beheld his pupil at some distance
seated beside the fire。
Raphael was reading the paper。 He sat in an armchair wrapped in a
dressing…gown with some large pattern on it。 The intense melancholy
that preyed upon him could be discerned in his languid posture and
feeble frame； it was depicted on his brow and white face； he looked
like some plant bleached by darkness。 There was a kind of effeminate
grace about him； the fancies peculiar to wealthy invalids were also
noticeable。 His hands were soft and white； like a pretty woman's； he
wore his fair hair； now grown scanty； curled about his temples with a
refinement of vanity。
The