The Lesser Bourgeoisie Part 78

Then she sat down again, quite ashamed, and burst into tears.

"And you, Mademoiselle Thuillier, and you, Madame Colleville, will you permit this young lady to reserve herself for one who is worthy of her?"

"Yes! Yes!" cried everybody; for Monsieur Picot's voice, which is very full and sonorous, seemed to have tears in it and affected everybody.

"Then it is time," he said, "to forgive Providence."

And rus.h.i.+ng suddenly to the door, where my ear was glued to the keyhole, he very nearly caught me.

"Announce," he said to me, in a very loud tone of voice, "Monsieur Felix Ph.e.l.lion and his family."

And thereupon the door of a side room opened, and five or six persons came out, who were led by Monsieur Picot into the salon.

At the sight of her _lover_, Mademoiselle Colleville was taken ill, but the faint lasted only a minute; seeing Monsieur Felix at her feet she threw herself into Madame Thuillier's arms, crying out:--

"G.o.dmother! you always told me to hope."

Mademoiselle Thuillier, who, in spite of her harsh nature and want of education, I have always myself thought a remarkable woman, now had a fine impulse. As the company were about to go into the dining-room,--

"One moment!" she said.

Then going up to Monsieur Ph.e.l.lion, senior, she said to him:

"Monsieur and old friend! I ask you for the hand of Monsieur Felix Ph.e.l.lion for our adopted daughter, Mademoiselle Colleville."

"Bravo! bravo!" they call cried in chorus.

"My G.o.d!" said Monsieur Ph.e.l.lion, with tears in his eyes; "what have I done to deserve such happiness?"

"You have been an honest man and a Christian without knowing it,"

replied the Abbe Gondrin.

Here la Peyrade flung down the ma.n.u.script.

"You did not finish it," said Corentin, taking back the paper. "However, there's not much more. Monsieur Henri confesses to me that the scene had _moved him_; he also says that, knowing the interest I had formerly taken in the marriage, he thought he ought to inform me of its conclusion; ending with a slightly veiled suggestion of a fee. No, stay," resumed Corentin, "here is a detail of some importance:--"

The English woman seems to have made it known during dinner that, having no heirs, her fortune, after the lives of herself and her husband, will go to Felix. That will make him powerfully rich one of these days.

La Peyrade had risen and was striding about the room with rapid steps.

"Well," said Corentin, "what is the matter with you?"

"Nothing."

"That is not true," said the great detective. "I think you envy the happiness of that young man. My dear fellow, permit me to tell you that if such a conclusion were to your taste, you should have acted as he has done. When I sent you two thousand francs on which to study law, I did not intend you to succeed me; I expected you to row your galley laboriously, to have the needful courage for obscure and painful toil; your day would infallibly have come. But you chose to violate fortune--"

"Monsieur!"

"I mean hasten it, reap it before it ripened. You flung yourself into journalism; then into business, questionable business; you made acquaintance with Messieurs Dutocq and Cerizet. Frankly, I think you fortunate to have entered the port which harbors you to-day. In any case, you are not sufficiently simple of heart to have really valued the joys reserved for Felix Ph.e.l.lion. These bourgeois--"

"These bourgeois," said la Peyrade, quickly,--"I know them now. They have great absurdities, great vices even, but they have virtues, or, at the least, estimable qualities; in them lies the vital force of our corrupt society."

"_Your_ society!" said Corentin, smiling; "you speak as if you were still in the ranks. You have another sphere, my dear fellow; and you must learn to be more content with your lot. Governments pa.s.s, societies perish or dwindle; but we--_we_ dominate all things; the police is eternal."

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

Note.--This volume ("Les Pet.i.ts Bourgeois") was not published until 1854, more than three years after Balzac's death; although he says of it in March, 1844: "I must tell you that my work ent.i.tled 'Les Pet.i.ts Bourgeois,' owing to difficulties of execution, requires still a month's labor, although the book is entirely written." And again, in October, 1846, he says: "It is to such scruples" (care in perfecting his work) "that delays which have injured several of my works are due; for instance, 'Les Paysans,' which has long been nearly finished, and 'Les Pet.i.ts Bourgeois,' which has been in type at the printing office for the last eighteen months."