The Lesser Bourgeoisie Part 38

"Really, madame," said Ph.e.l.lion, "you force us to hear things that--"

"That are not beyond the truth," interrupted the countess. "Another reason which leads me to take a deep interest in the happiness of these young people is that I am not so desirous for that of Monsieur Theodose de la Peyrade, who is false and grasping. On the ruin of their hopes that man is counting to carry out his swindling purposes."

"It is quite certain," said Ph.e.l.lion, "that there are dark depths in Monsieur de la Peyrade where light does not penetrate."

"And as I myself had the misfortune to marry a man of his description, the thought of the wretchedness to which Celeste would be condemned by so fatal a connection, impels me, in the hope of saving her, to the charitable effort which now, I trust, has ceased to surprise you."

"Madame," said Ph.e.l.lion, "we do not need the conclusive explanations by which you illumine your conduct; but as to the faults on our part, which have thwarted your generous efforts, I must declare that in order to avoid committing them in future, it seems to me not a little desirable that you should plainly indicate them."

"How long is it," asked the countess, "since any of your family have paid a visit to the Thuilliers'?"

"If my memory serves me," said Ph.e.l.lion, "I think we were all there the Sunday after the dinner for the house-warming."

"Fifteen whole days of absence!" exclaimed the countess; "and you think that nothing of importance could happen in fifteen days?"

"No, indeed! did not three glorious days in July, 1830, cast down a perjured dynasty and found the n.o.ble order of things under which we now live?"

"You see it yourself!" said the countess. "Now, tell me, during that evening, fifteen days ago, did nothing serious take place between your son and Celeste?"

"Something did occur," replied Ph.e.l.lion,--"a very disagreeable conversation on the subject of my son's religious opinions; it must be owned that our good Celeste, who in all other respects has a charming nature, is a trifle fanatic in the matter of piety."

"I agree to that," said the countess; "but she was brought up by the mother whom you know; she was never shown the face of true piety; she saw only the mimicry of it. Repentant Magdalens of the Madame Colleville species always a.s.sume an air of wis.h.i.+ng to retire to a desert with their death's-head and crossed bones. They think they can't get salvation at a cheaper rate. But after all, what did Celeste ask of Monsieur Felix?

Merely that he would read 'The Imitation of Christ.'"

"He has read it, madame," said Ph.e.l.lion, "and he thinks it a book extremely well written; but his convictions--and that is a misfortune--have not been affected by the perusal."

"And do you think he shows much cleverness in not a.s.suring his mistress of some little change in his inflexible convictions?"

"My son, madame, has never received from me the slightest lesson in cleverness; loyalty, uprightness, those are the principles I have endeavored to inculcate in him."

"It seems to me, monsieur, that there is no want of loyalty when, in dealing with a troubled mind, we endeavor to avoid wounding it. But let us agree that Monsieur Felix owed it to himself to be that iron door against which poor Celeste's applications beat in vain; was that a reason for keeping away from her and sulking in his tent for fifteen whole days? Above all, ought he to have capped these sulks by a proceeding which I can't forgive, and which--only just made known to us--has struck the girl's heart with despair, and also with a feeling of extreme irritation?"

"My son capable of any such act! it is quite impossible, madame!" cried Ph.e.l.lion. "I know nothing of this proceeding; but I do not hesitate to affirm that you have been ill-informed."

"And yet, nothing is more certain. Young Colleville, who came home to-day for his half-holiday, has just told us that Monsieur Felix, who had previously gone with the utmost punctuality to hear him recite has ceased entirely to have anything to do with him. Unless your son is ill, I do not hesitate to say that this neglect is the greatest of blunders, in the situation in which he now stands with the sister he ought not to have chosen this moment to put an end to these lessons."

The Ph.e.l.lions looked at each other as if consulting how to reply.

"My son," said Madame Ph.e.l.lion, "is not exactly ill; but since you mention a fact which is, I acknowledge, very strange and quite out of keeping with his nature and habits, I think it right to tell you that from the day when Celeste seemed to signify that all was at an end between them, a very extraordinary change has come over Felix, which is causing Monsieur Ph.e.l.lion and myself the deepest anxiety."

"Yes, madame," said Ph.e.l.lion, "the young man is certainly not in his normal condition."

"But what is the matter with him?" asked the countess, anxiously.

"The night of that scene with Celeste," replied Ph.e.l.lion, "after his return home, he wept a flood of hot tears on his mother's bosom, and gave us to understand that the happiness of his whole life was at an end."

"And yet," said Madame de G.o.dollo, "nothing very serious happened; but lovers always make the worst of things."

"No doubt," said Madame Ph.e.l.lion; "but since that night Felix has not made the slightest allusion to his misfortune, and the next day he went back to his work with a sort of frenzy. Does that seem natural to you?"

"It is capable of explanation; work is said to be a great consoler."

"That is most true," said Ph.e.l.lion; "but in Felix's whole personality there is something excited, and yet repressed, which is difficult to describe. You speak to him, and he hardly seems to hear you; he sits down to table and forgets to eat, or takes his food with an absent-mindedness which the medical faculty consider most injurious to the process of digestion; his duties, his regular occupations, we have to remind him of--him, so extremely regular, so punctual! The other day, when he was at the Observatory, where he now spends all his evenings, only coming home in the small hours, I took it upon myself to enter his room and examine his papers. I was terrified, madame, at finding a paper covered with algebraic calculations which, by their vast extent appeared to me to go beyond the limits of the human intellect."

"Perhaps," said the countess, "he is on the road to some great discovery."

"Or to madness," said Madame Ph.e.l.lion, in a low voice, and with a heavy sigh.

"That is not probable," said Madame de G.o.dollo; "with an organization so calm and a mind so well balanced, he runs but little danger of that misfortune. I know myself of another danger that threatens him to-morrow, and unless we can take some steps this evening to avert it, Celeste is positively lost to him."

"How so?" said the husband and wife together.

"Perhaps you are not aware," replied the countess, "that Thuillier and his sister have made certain promises to Monsieur de la Peyrade about Celeste?"

"We suspected as much," replied Madame Ph.e.l.lion.

"The fulfilment of these pledges was postponed to a rather distant period, and subordinated to certain conditions. Monsieur de la Peyrade, after enabling them to buy the house near the Madeleine, pledged himself not only to obtain the cross for Monsieur Thuillier, but to write in his name a political pamphlet, and a.s.sist him in his election to the Chamber of Deputies. It sounds like the romances of chivalry, in which the hero, before obtaining the hand of the princess, is compelled to exterminate a dragon."

"Madame is very witty," said Madame Ph.e.l.lion, looking at her husband, who made her a sign not to interrupt.

"I have no time now," said the countess; "in fact it would be useless to tell you the manoeuvres by which Monsieur de la Peyrade has contrived to hasten the period of this marriage; but it concerns you to know that, thanks to his duplicity, Celeste is being forced to choose between him and Monsieur Felix; fifteen days were given her in which to make her choice; the time expires to-morrow, and, thanks to the unfortunate state of feeling into which your son's att.i.tude has thrown her, there is very serious danger of seeing her sacrifice to her wounded feelings the better sentiments of her love and her instincts."

"But what can be done to prevent it?" asked Ph.e.l.lion.

"Fight, monsieur; come this evening in force to the Thuilliers'; induce Monsieur Felix to accompany you; lecture him until he promises to be a little more flexible in his philosophical opinions. Paris, said Henri IV., is surely worth a ma.s.s. But let him avoid all such questions; he can certainly find in his heart the words and tones to move a woman who loves him; it requires so little to satisfy her! I shall be there myself, and I will help him to my utmost ability; perhaps, under the inspiration of the moment, I may think of some way to do effectually.

One thing is very certain: we have to fight a great battle to-night, and if we do not ALL do our duty valorously, la Peyrade may win it."

"My son is not here, madame," said Ph.e.l.lion, "and I regret it, for perhaps your generous devotion and urgent words would succeed in shaking off his torpor; but, at any rate, I will lay before him the gravity of the situation, and, beyond all doubt, he will accompany us to-night to the Thuilliers'."

"It is needless to say," added the countess, rising, "that we must carefully avoid the very slightest appearance of collusion; we must not converse together; in fact, unless it can be done in some casual way, it would be better not to speak."

"I beg you to rely, madame, upon my prudence," replied Ph.e.l.lion, "and kindly accept the a.s.surance--"

"Of your most distinguished sentiments," interrupted the countess, laughing.

"No, madame," replied Ph.e.l.lion, gravely, "I reserve that formula for the conclusion of my letters; I beg you to accept the a.s.surance of my warmest and most unalterable grat.i.tude."

"We will talk of that when we are out of danger," said Madame de G.o.dollo, moving towards the door; "and if Madame Ph.e.l.lion, the tenderest and most virtuous of mothers, will grant me a little place in her esteem, I shall count myself more than repaid for my trouble."

Madame Ph.e.l.lion plunged headlong into a responsive compliment; and the countess, in her carriage, was at some distance from the house before Ph.e.l.lion had ceased to offer her his most respectful salutations.

As the Latin-quarter element in Brigitte's salon became more rare and less a.s.siduous, a livelier Paris began to infiltrate it. Among his colleagues in the munic.i.p.al council and among the upper employees of the prefecture of the Seine, the new councillor had made several very important recruits. The mayor, and the deputy mayors of the arrondiss.e.m.e.nt, on whom, after his removal to the Madeleine quarter, Thuillier had called, hastened to return the civility; and the same thing happened with the superior officers of the first legion. The house itself had produced a contingent; and several of the new tenants contributed, by their presence, to change the aspect of the dominical meetings. Among the number we must mention Rabourdin [see "Bureaucracy"], the former head of Thuillier's office at the ministry of finance. Having had the misfortune to lose his wife, whose salon, at an earlier period, checkmated that of Madame Colleville, Rabourdin occupied as a bachelor the third floor, above the apartment let to Cardot, the notary. As the result of an odious slight to his just claims, Rabourdin had voluntarily resigned his public functions. At this time, when he again met Thuillier, he was director of one of those numerous projected railways, the construction of which is always delayed by either parliamentary rivalry or parliamentary indecision. Let us say, in pa.s.sing, that the meeting with this able administrator, now become an important personage in the financial world, was an occasion to the worthy and honest Ph.e.l.lion to display once more his n.o.ble character. At the time of the resignation to which Rabourdin had felt himself driven, Ph.e.l.lion alone, of all the clerks in the office, had stood by him in his misfortunes. Being now in a position to bestow a great number of places, Rabourdin, on meeting once more his faithful subordinate, hastened to offer him a position both easy and lucrative.

"Mossieu," said Ph.e.l.lion, "your benevolence touches me and honors me, but my frankness owes you an avowal, which I beg you not to take in ill part: I do not believe in 'railways,' as the English call them."

"That's an opinion to which you have every right," said Rabourdin, smiling; "but, meanwhile, until the contrary is proved, we pay the employees in our office well, and I should be glad to have you with me in that capacity. I know by experience that you are a man on whom I can count."

"Mossieu," returned the great citizen, "I did my duty at that time, and nothing more. As for the offer you have been so good as to make to me, I cannot accept it; satisfied with my humble fortunes, I feel neither the need nor the desire to re-enter an administrative career; and, in common with the Latin poet, I may say, 'Claudite jam rivos, pueri, sat prata biberunt.'"