Had he been thus ignorant, the attitude of his family, just after the death of his father, would have opened his eyes to the fact.
His aunt de la Roche-Jugan and his uncle Tonnelier manifested toward him the cold circumspection of people who suspected they were dealing with a ruined man.

They had even, for greater security, left Paris, and neglected to notify the young Count in what retreat they had chosen to hide their grief.

Nevertheless he was soon to learn it, for while he was busied in settling his father's affairs and organizing his own projects of fortune and ambition, one fine morning in August he met with a lively surprise.
He counted among his relatives one of the richest landed proprietors of France, General the Marquis de Campvallon d'Armignes, celebrated for his fearful outbursts in the Corps Legislatif.

He had a voice of thunder, and when he rolled out, "Bah! Enough! Stop this order of the day!" the senate trembled, and the government commissioners bounced on their chairs.

Yet he was the best fellow in the world, although he had killed two fellow-creatures in duels--but then he had his reasons for that.
Camors knew him but slightly, paid him the necessary respect that politeness demanded toward a relative; met him sometimes at the club, over a game of whist, and that was all.
Two years before, the General had lost a nephew, the direct heir to his name and fortune.