The old Marquis de Larochejaquelin had been crossed in love early in
life, and he had not recovered from his sorrow till he was above fifty,
when he married, and outlived his young wife, who left him different
children. Henri and Agatha were the only two now living with him. As has
already been said, the old man was very infirm, and had lost the use of
his limbs.
When the weather was cold or wet, he sat with his daughter, Agatha, near
his bright wood fire, and watched her needle, or listened to her songs;
but, if the sun appeared at all, he was dragged out in his garden chair
among the birds and the painted figures, and was happy in spite of his
infirmities.
He was most affectionate to his children, and indulgent to a fault. He
was kind to every one, and, unless the birds were disturbed, the
cherry-trees injured, or the figures upset, he was never angry even with
a servant. Everybody loved and venerated the old Marquis, and even in
his foibles, he was thoroughly respected. He had a vast collection of
stuffed birds of every description, and the peasants round him were so
anxious to gratify him by adding to his stock, that there began to be
a doubt whether room in the chateau could be found for the presents
which were continually brought.
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