It is certain that my son is much to be pitied on account of his wife,
and for this, if there were no other reason, I cannot comprehend why
he should like the Abbé Dubois as he does; for it was that abbé who
persuaded him to consent to the marriage and plunged him into all that
affliction. My son sees his wife every day; if she is in a good humour
he stays a long time with her; if she is out of temper, which often
happens, he goes away and says nothing.
I used to be attached to the Abbé Dubois because I thought that he
truly loved my son and only thought of his good and his advantage; but
when I found he was a faithless dog looking to nothing but his own
interests, and did not care in the least for my son's honour, but was
helping to precipitate him to eternal damnation by letting him plunge
into debauchery, all my esteem for that little priest changed to
contempt. I heard from my son himself that the abbé met him once as he
was about to enter a bad house, and instead of taking him by the arm
and leading him away, he only laughed. By such laxity and by my son's
marriage he proved that neither faith, fidelity, nor decency was in
him. I am not wrong in suspecting him of taking part in that marriage.
What I know I have from my son himself and from the persons around the
old _vilaine_ in the days when the abbé went to her secretly at night
to help her intrigues and betray the young master whom he sold.