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the pamphlet can be finished."

 

"Now," said Thuillier, "I know what you have had on your mind. I'll

talk about it with Brigitte."

 

"That's a sad conclusion," said la Peyrade; "but, unhappily, so it

is."

 

"What do you mean by that?"

 

"I would rather, as you can easily imagine, hear you say of yourself

that the thing shall be done; but old habits can't be broken up."

 

"Ah ca! do you think I'm a man without any will, any initiative of my

own?"

 

"No! but I'd like to be hidden in a corner and hear how you will open

the subject with your sister."

 

"Parbleu! I shall open it frankly. I WILL, very firmly said, shall

meet every one of her objections."

 

"Ah, my poor fellow!" said la Peyrade, clapping him on the shoulder,

"from Chrysale down how often have we seen brave warriors lowering

their penants before the wills of women accustomed to master them!"

 

"We'll see about _that_," replied Thuillier, making a theatrical exit.

 

The eager desire to publish his pamphlet, and the clever doubt thrown

upon the strength of his will had made him furious,--an actual tiger;

and he went away resolved, in case of opposition, to reduce his

household, as the saying is, by fire and sword.

 

When he reached home Thuillier instantly laid the question before

Brigitte. She, with her crude good sense and egotism, pointed out to

him that by thus hastening the period formerly agreed upon for the

marriage, they committed the blunder of disarming themselves; they

could not be sure that when the election took place la Peyrade would

put the same zeal into preparing for it. "It might be," said the old

maid, "just as it has been about the cross."

 

"There's this difference," said Thuillier; "the cross doesn't depend

directly upon la Peyrade, whereas the influence he exerts in the 12th

arrondissement he can employ as he will."

 

"And suppose he willed, after we have feathered his nest," said

Brigitte, "to work his influence for his own election? He is very

ambitious, you know."

 

This danger did not fail to strike the mind of the future legislator,

who thought, however, that he might feel some security in the honor

and morality of la Peyrade.

 

"A man's honor can't be very delicate," returned Brigitte, "when he

tries to get out of a bargain; and this fashion of dangling a bit of

sugar before us about getting your pamphlet finished, doesn't please

me at all. Can't you get Phellion to help you, and do without

Theodose? Or, I dare say, Madame de Godollo, who knows everybody in

politics, could find you a journalist--they say there are plenty of

them out at elbows; a couple of hundred francs would do the thing."

 

"But the secret would get into the papers," said Thuillier. "No, I

must absolutely have Theodose; he knows that, and he makes these

conditions. After all, we did promise him Celeste, and it is only

fulfilling the promise a year earlier--what am I saying?--a few

months, a few weeks, possibly; for the king may dissolve the Chamber

before any one expects it."

 

"But suppose Celeste won't have him?" objected Brigitte.

 

"Celeste! Celeste, indeed!" ejaculated Thuillier; "she _must_ have

whomsoever we choose. We ought to have thought of that when we made

the engagement with la Peyrade; our word is passed now, you know.

Besides, if the child is allowed to choose between la Peyrade and

Phellion--"

 

"So you really think," said the sceptical old maid, "that if Celeste

decides for Phellion you can still count on la Peyrade's devotion?"

 

"What else can I do? Those are his conditions. Besides, the fellow has

calculated the whole thing; he knows very well that Felix will never

bring himself in two weeks to please Celeste by going to confession,

and unless he does, that little monkey will never accept him for a

husband. La Peyrade's game is very clever."

 

"Too clever," said Brigitte. "Well, settle the matter as you choose; I

shall not meddle; all this manoeuvring is not to my taste."

 

Thuillier went to see Madame Colleville, and intimated to her that she

must inform Celeste of the designs upon her.

 

Celeste had never been officially authorized to indulge her sentiment

for Felix Phellion. Flavie, on the contrary, had once expressly

forbidden her to encourage the hopes of the young professor; but as,

on the part of Madame Thuillier, her godmother and her confidant, she

knew she was sustained in her inclination, she had let herself gently

follow it without thinking very seriously of the obstacles her choice

might encounter. When, therefore, she was ordered to choose at once

between Felix and la Peyrade, the simple-hearted girl was at first

only struck by the advantages of one half of the alternative, and she

fancied she did herself a great service by agreeing to an arrangement

which made her the mistress of her own choice and allowed her to

bestow it as her heart desired.

 

But la Peyrade was not mistaken in his calculation when he reckoned

that the religious intolerance of the young girl on one side, and the

philosophical inflexibility of Phellion's son on the other, would

create an invincible obstacle to their coming together. 

CHAPTER III (GOOD BLOOD CANNOT LIE)

The evening of the day on which Flavie had communicated to Celeste the

sovereign orders of Thuillier, the Phellions called to spend the

evening with Brigitte, and a very sharp engagement took place between

the two young people. Mademoiselle Colleville did not need to be told

by her mother that it would be extremely unbecoming if she allowed

Felix to know of the conditional approval that was granted to their

sentiments. Celeste had too much delicacy, and too much real religious

feeling to wish to obtain the conversion of the man she loved on any

other ground than that of his conviction. Their evening was therefore

passed in theological debate; but love is so strange a Proteus, and

takes so many and such various forms, that though it appeared on this

occasion in a black gown and a mob cap, it was not at all as

ungraceful and displeasing as might have been imagined. But Phellion

junior was in this encounter, the solemnity of which he little knew,

unlucky and blundering to the last degree. Not only did he concede

nothing, but he took a tone of airy and ironical discussion, and ended

by putting poor Celeste so beside herself that she finally declared an

open rupture and forbade him to appear in her presence again.

 

It was just the case for a lover more experienced than the young

savant to reappear the very next day, for young hearts are never so

near to understanding each other as when they have just declared the

necessity of eternal separation. But this law is not one of

logarithms, and Felix Phellion, being incapable of guessing it,

thought himself positively and finally banished; so much so, that

during the fifteen days granted to the poor girl to deliberate (as

says the Code in the matter of beneficiary bequests), although he was

expected day by day, and from minute to minute by Celeste, who gave no

more thought to la Peyrade than if he had nothing to do with the

question, the deplorably stupid youth did not have the most distant

idea of breaking his ban.

 

Luckily for this hopeless lover, a beneficent fairy was watching over

him, and the evening before the day on which the young girl was to

make her decision the following affair took place.

 

It was Sunday, the day on which the Thuilliers still kept up their

weekly receptions.

 

Madame Phellion, convinced that the housekeeping leakage, vulgarly

called "the basket dance," was the ruin of the best-regulated

households, was in the habit of going in person to her tradespeople.

From time immemorial in the Phellion establishment, Sunday was the day

of the "pot-au-feu," and the wife of the great citizen, in that

intentionally dowdy costume in which good housekeepers bundle

themselves when they go to market, was prosaically returning from a

visit to the butcher, followed by her cook and the basket, in which

lay a magnificent cut of the loin of beef. Twice had she rung her own

doorbell, and terrible was the storm gathering on the head of the

foot-boy, who by his slowness in opening the door was putting his

mistress in a situation less tolerable than that of Louis XIV., who

had only _almost_ waited. In her feverish impatience Madame Phellion had

just given the bell a third and ferocious reverberation, when, judge

of her confusion, a little coupe drew up with much clatter at the door

of her house, and a lady descended, whom she recognized, at this

untimely hour, as the elegant Comtesse Torna de Godollo!

 

Turning a purplish scarlet, the unfortunate bourgeoise lost her head,

and, floundering in excuses, she was about to complicate the position

by some signal piece of awkwardness, when, happily for her, Phellion,

attracted by the noise of the bell, and attired in a dressing-gown and

Greek cap, came out of his study to inquire what was the matter. After

a speech, the pompous charm of which did much to compensate for his

dishabille, the great citizen, with the serenity that never abandoned

him, offered his hand very gallantly to the lady, and having installed

her in the salon, said:--

 

"May I, without indiscretion, ask Madame la comtesse what has procured

for us the unhoped-for advantage of this visit?"

 

"I have come," said the lady, "to talk with Madame Phellion on a

matter which must deeply interest her. I have no other way of meeting

her without witnesses; and therefore, though I am hardly known to

Madame Phellion, I have taken the liberty to call upon her here."

 

"Madame, your visit is a great honor to this poor dwelling. But where

is Madame Phellion?" added the worthy man, impatiently, going towards

the door.

 

"No, I beg of you, don't disturb her," said the countess; "I have

heedlessly come at a moment when she is busy with household cares.

Brigitte has been my educator in such matters, and I know the respect

we ought to pay to good housekeepers. Besides, I have the pleasure of

your presence, which I scarcely expected."

 

Before Phellion could reply to these obliging words, Madame Phellion

appeared. A cap with ribbons had taken the place of the market bonnet,

and a large shawl covered the other insufficiencies of the morning

toilet. When his wife arrived, the great citizen made as though he

would discreetly retire.

 

"Monsieur Phellion," said the countess, "you are not one too many in

the conference I desire with madame; on the contrary, your excellent

judgment will be most useful in throwing light upon a matter as

interesting to you as to your wife. I allude to the marriage of your

son."

 

"The marriage of my son!" cried Madame Phellion, with a look of

astonishment; "but I am not aware that anything of the kind is at

present in prospect."

 

"The marriage of Monsieur Felix with Mademoiselle Celeste is, I think,

one of your strongest desires--"

 

"But we have never," said Phellion, "taken any overt steps for that

object."

 

"I know that only too well," replied the countess; "on the contrary,

every one in your family seems to study how to defeat my efforts in

that direction. However, one thing is clear in spite of the reserve,

and, you must allow me to say so, the clumsiness in which the affair

has been managed, and that is that the young people love each other,

and they will both be unhappy if they do not marry. Now, to prevent

this catastrophe is the object with which I have come here this

morning."

 

"We cannot, madame, be otherwise than deeply sensible of the interest

you are so good as to show in the happiness of our son," said

Phellion; "but, in truth, this interest--"

 

"Is something so inexplicable," interrupted the countess, "that you

feel a distrust of it?"

 

"Oh! madame!" said Phellion, bowing with an air of respectful dissent.

 

"But," continued the lady, "the explanation of my proceeding is very

simple. I have studied Celeste, and in that dear and artless child I

find a moral weight and value which would make me grieve to see her

sacrificed."

 

"You are right, madame," said Madame

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