He is shrewdly blamed by the best commentators.
Before Julien left he received four or five invitations to dinner.
"This young man is an honour to the department," cried all the guests in chorus.
They even went so far as to talk of a pension voted out of the municipal funds to put him in the position of continuing his studies at Paris.
While this rash idea was resounding through the dining-room Julien had swiftly reached the front door.
"You scum, you scum," he cried, three or four times in succession in a low voice as he indulged in the pleasure of breathing in the fresh air.
He felt quite an aristocrat at this moment, though he was the very man who had been shocked for so long a period by the haughty smile of disdainful superiority which he detected behind all the courtesies addressed to him at M. de Renal's.
He could not help realising the extreme difference.
Why let us even forget the fact of its being money stolen from the poor inmates, he said to himself as he went away, let us forget also their stopping the singing.
M. de Renal would never think of telling his guests the price of each bottle of wine with which he regales them, and as for this M. Valenod, and his chronic cataloguing of his various belongings, he cannot talk of his house, his estate, etc., in the presence of his wife without saying,
"Your house, your estate."
This lady, who was apparently so keenly alive to the delights of decorum, had just had an awful scene during the dinner with a servant who had broken a wine-glass and spoilt one of her dozens; and the servant too had answered her back with the utmost insolence.
"What a collection," said Julien to himself;
"I would not live like they do were they to give me half of all they steal.
I shall give myself away one fine day. I should not be able to restrain myself from expressing the disgust with which they inspire one."
It was necessary, however, to obey Madame de Renal's injunction and be present at several dinners of the same kind.
Julien was the fashion; he was forgiven his Guard of Honour uniform, or rather that indiscretion was the real cause of his successes.
Soon the only question in Verrieres was whether M. de Renal or M. the director of the workhouse would be the victor in the struggle for the clever young man.
These gentlemen formed, together with M. Maslon, a triumvirate which had tyrannised over the town for a number of years.
People were jealous of the mayor, and the Liberals had good cause for complaint, but, after all, he was noble and born for a superior position, while M. Valenod's father had not left him six hundred francs a year.
His career had necessitated a transition from pitying the shabby green suit which had been so notorious in his youth, to envying the Norman horses, his gold chains, his Paris clothes, his whole present prosperity.
Julien thought that he had discovered one honest man in the whirlpool of this novel world. He was a geometrist named Gros, and had the reputation of being a Jacobin.
Julien, who had vowed to say nothing but that which he disbelieved himself, was obliged to watch himself carefully when speaking to M. Gros.
He received big packets of exercises from Vergy.
He was advised to visit his father frequently, and he fulfilled his unpleasant duty.
In a word he was patching his reputation together pretty well, when he was thoroughly surprised to find himself woken up one morning by two hands held over his eyes.
It was Madame de Renal who had made a trip to the town, and who, running up the stairs four at a time while she left her children playing with a pet rabbit, had reached Julien's room a moment before her sons.
This moment was delicious but very short: Madame de Renal had disappeared when the children arrived with the rabbit which they wanted to show to their friend. Julien gave them all a hearty welcome, including the rabbit.
He seemed at home again. He felt that he loved these children and that he enjoyed gossiping with them.
He was astonished at the sweetness of their voices, at the simplicity and dignity of their little ways; he felt he needed to purge his imagination of all the vulgar practices and all the unpleasantnesses among which he had been living in Verrieres.
For there everyone was always frightened of being scored off, and luxury and poverty were at daggers drawn.
The people with whom he would dine would enter into confidences over the joint which were as humiliating for themselves as they were nauseating to the hearer.
"You others, who are nobles, you are right to be proud," he said to Madame de Renal, as he gave her an account of all the dinners which he had put up with.
"You're the fashion then," and she laughed heartily as she thought of the rouge which Madame Valenod thought herself obliged to put on each time she expected Julien.
"I think she has designs on your heart," she added.
The breakfast was delicious.
The presence of the children, though apparently embarrassing, increased as a matter of fact the happiness of the party.
The poor children did not know how to give expression to the joy at seeing Julien again.
The servants had not failed to tell them that he had been offered two hundred francs a year more to educate the little Valenods.
Stanislas-Xavier, who was still pale from his illness, suddenly asked his mother in the middle of the breakfast, the value of his silver cover and of the goblet in which he was drinking.
"Why do you want to know that?"
"I want to sell them to give the price to M. Julien so that he shan't be done if he stays with us."
Julien kissed him with tears in his eyes.
His mother wept unrestrainedly, for Julien took Stanislas on his knees and explained to him that he should not use the word "done" which, when employed in that meaning was an expression only fit for the servants' hall.
Seeing the pleasure which he was giving to Madame de Renal, he tried to explain the meaning of being "done" by picturesque illustrations which amused the children.
"I understand," said Stanislas, "it's like the crow who is silly enough to let his cheese fall and be taken by the fox who has been playing the flatterer."
Madame de Renal felt mad with joy and covered her children with kisses, a process which involved her leaning a little on Julien.
Suddenly the door opened. It was M. de Renal. His severe and discontented expression contrasted strangely with the sweet joy which his presence dissipated.
Madame de Renal grew pale, she felt herself incapable of denying anything.
Julien seized command of the conversation and commenced telling M. the mayor in a loud voice the incident of the silver goblet which Stanislas wanted to sell. He was quite certain this story would not be appreciated. M. de Renal first of all frowned mechanically at the mere mention of money.