The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (freenovel24 TXT) 📖
- Author: Honore de Balzac
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angel of sweetness."
"As for monsieur Felix, I venture to interest myself because, in the
first place, he is the son of so virtuous a father--"
"Oh, madame! I entreat--" said Phellion, bowing again.
"--and he also attracts me by the awkwardness of true love, which
appears in all his actions and all his words. We mature women find an
inexpressible charm in seeing the tender passion under a form which
threatens us with no deceptions and no misunderstandings."
"My son is certainly not brilliant," said Madame Phellion, with a
faint tone of sharpness; "he is not a fashionable young man."
"But he has the qualities that are most essential," replied the
countess, "and a merit which ignores itself,--a thing of the utmost
consequence in all intellectual superiority--"
"Really, madame," said Phellion, "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 Phellion, "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 Phellion, "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 Phellion, "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 noble 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 Phellion,--"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 assume an air of wishing 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 Phellion, "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 assuring 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 Phellion. "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 Phellions looked at each other as if consulting how to reply.
"My son," said Madame Phellion, "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 Phellion and myself the deepest anxiety."
"Yes, madame," said Phellion, "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 Phellion, "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 Godollo, "nothing very serious happened; but
lovers always make the worst of things."
"No doubt," said Madame Phellion; "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 Phellion; "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 Phellion, in a low voice, and with a
heavy sigh.
"That is not probable," said Madame de Godollo; "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 Phellion.
"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 assist 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 Phellion, 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 attitude 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 Phellion.
"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 mass. 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 Phellion, "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 Phellion, "and
kindly accept the assurance--"
"Of your most distinguished sentiments," interrupted the countess,
laughing.
"No, madame," replied Phellion, gravely, "I reserve that formula for
the conclusion of my letters; I beg you to accept the assurance of my
warmest and most unalterable gratitude."
"We will talk of that when we are out of danger," said Madame de
Godollo, moving towards the door; "and if Madame Phellion, 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 Phellion plunged headlong into a responsive compliment; and the
countess, in her carriage, was at some distance from the house before
Phellion had ceased to offer her his most respectful salutations.
As the Latin-quarter element in Brigitte's salon became more rare and
less assiduous, a livelier Paris began to infiltrate it. Among his
colleagues in the municipal 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
arrondissement, 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 passing, that the meeting with this able administrator,
now become an important personage in the financial world, was an
occasion to the worthy and honest Phellion to display once more his
noble character. At the time of the resignation
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