Coming finally to the conclusion that he had but one, namely his father, which accounted for the solicitude expressed so earnestly in the letter, he uttered an expletive, which should not have passed his youthful lips, and threw it down upon the top of that of Madame Riennes.
After this he left the room much depressed, and watching his opportunity, for the merry party in the _salon_ who had gathered to greet him were still there drinking heavy white wine, he slipped through the back door to walk in the woods.

These woods were lonely, but then they suited his mood.

In truth, never had he felt more alone in his life.

His father and he were utterly different, and estranged, and he had no other relatives.

In friends he was equally lacking.