He was thinking of the man he had hitherto believed to be his father; and possibly the vague notion he had long since conceived, of that father's inferiority, with his brother's constant irony, the scornful indifference of others, and the very maid-servant's contempt for Roland, had somewhat prepared his mind for his mother's terrible avowal.

It had all made it less dreadful to him to find that he was another man's son; and if, after the great shock and agitation of the previous evening, he had not suffered the reaction of rage, indignation, and rebellion which Mme.

Roland had feared, it was because he had long been unconsciously chafing under the sense of being the child of this well-meaning lout.
They had now reached the dwelling of Mme.

Rosemilly.
She lived on the road to Sainte-Adresse, on the second floor of a large tenement which she owned.

The windows commanded a view of the whole roadstead.
On seeing Mme.