He was
indeed just praising himself, his wife, his child, and everything that
belonged to him. He was planning, planning, as he talked, the new things
to do--the cheese-factory, the purchase of a steam-plough and a steam-
thresher which he could hire out to his neighbours. Only once during the
drive did he turn round to Carmen, and then it was to ask her if she had
seen her father of late.
"Not for ten months," was her reply. "Why do you ask?"
"Wouldn't he like to be nearer you and Zoe? It's twelve miles to
Beauharnais," he replied.
"Are you thinking of offering him another place at the Manor?" she asked
sharply.
"Well, there is the new cheese-factory--not to manage, but to keep the
books! He's doing them all right for the lumber-firm. I hear that he--"
"I don't want it. No good comes from relatives working together. Look
at the Latouche farm where your cousin makes his mess. My father is well
enough where he is."
"But you'd like to see him oftener--I was only thinking of that," said
Jean Jacques in a mollifying voice. It was the kind of thing in which he
showed at once the weakness and the kindness of his nature.
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