The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (freenovel24 TXT) 📖
- Author: Honore de Balzac
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felt himself driven, Phellion 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 Phellion, "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.'"
Thus elevated in the character of its habitues, the salon Thuillier
still needed a new element of life. Thanks to the help of Madame de
Godollo, a born organizer, who successfully put to profit the former
connection of Colleville with the musical world, a few artists came to
make diversion from bouillotte and boston. Old-fashioned and
venerable, those two games were forced to beat a retreat before whist,
the only manner, said the Hungarian countess, in which respectable
people can kill time.
Like Louis XVI., who began by putting his own hand to reforms which
subsequently engulfed his throne, Brigitte had encouraged, at first,
this domestic revolution; the need of sustaining her position suitably
in the new quarter to which she had emigrated had made her docile to
all suggestions of comfort and elegance. But the day on which occurred
the scene we are about to witness, an apparently trivial detail had
revealed to her the danger of the declivity on which she stood. The
greater number of the new guests, recently imported by Thuillier, knew
nothing of his sister's supremacy in his home. On arrival, therefore,
they all asked Thuillier to present them to _Madame_, and, naturally,
Thuillier could not say to them that his wife was a figure-head who
groaned under the iron hand of a Richelieu, to whom the whole
household bent the knee. It was therefore not until the first homage
rendered to the sovereign "de jure" was paid, that the new-comers were
led up to Brigitte, and by reason of the stiffness which displeasure
at this misplacement of power gave to her greeting they were scarcely
encouraged to pay her any further attentions. Quick to perceive this
species of overthrow, Queen Elizabeth said to herself, with that
profound instinct of domination which was her ruling passion:--
"If I don't take care I shall soon be nobody in this house."
Burrowing into that idea, she came to think that if the project of
making a common household with la Peyrade, then Celeste's husband,
were carried out, the situation which was beginning to alarm her would
become even worse. From that moment, and by sudden intuition, Felix
Phellion, that good young man, with his head too full of mathematics
ever to become a formidable rival to her sovereignty, seemed to her a
far better match than the enterprising lawyer, and she was the first,
on seeing the Phellion father and mother arrive without the son, to
express regret at his absence. Brigitte, however, was not the only one
to feel the injury that the luckless professor was doing to his
prospects in thus keeping away from her reception. Madame Thuillier,
with simple candor, and Celeste with feigned reserve, both made
manifest their displeasure. As for Madame de Godollo, who, in spite of
a very remarkable voice, usually required much pressing before she
would sing (the piano having been opened since her reign began), she
now went up to Madame Phellion and asked her to accompany her, and
between two verses of a song she said in her ear:--
"Why isn't your son here?"
"He is coming," said Madame Phellion. "His father talked to him very
decidedly; but to-night there happens to be a conjunction of I don't
know what planets; it is a great night at the Observatory, and he did
not feel willing to dispense with--"
"It is inconceivable that a man should be so foolish!" exclaimed
Madame de Godollo; "wasn't theology bad enough, that he must needs
bring in astronomy too?"
And her vexation gave to her voice so vibrating a tone that her song
ended in the midst of what the English call a thunder of applause. La
Peyrade, who feared her extremely, was not one of the last, when she
returned to her place, to approach her, and express his admiration;
but she received his compliments with a coldness so near to incivility
that their mutual hostility was greatly increased. La Peyrade turned
away to console himself with Madame Colleville, who had still too many
pretensions to beauty not to be the enemy of a woman made to intercept
all homage.
"So you also, you think that woman sings well?" she said,
contemptuously, to Theodose.
"At any rate, I have been to tell her so," replied la Peyrade,
"because without her, in regard to Brigitte, there's no security. But
do just look at your Celeste; her eyes never leave that door, and
every time a tray is brought in, though it is an hour at least since
the last guest came, her face expresses disappointment."
We must remark, in passing, that since the reign of Madame de Godollo
trays were passed round on the Sunday reception days, and that without
scrimping; on the contrary, they were laden with ices, cakes, and
syrups, from Taurade's, then the best confectioner.
"Don't harass me!" cried Flavie. "I know very well what that foolish
girl has in her mind; and your marriage will take place only too
soon."
"But you know it is not for myself I make it," said la Peyrade; "it is
a necessity for the future of all of us. Come, come, there are tears
in your eyes! I shall leave you; you are not reasonable. The devil! as
that Prudhomme of a Phellion says, 'Whoso wants the end wants the
means.'"
And he went toward the group composed of Celeste, Madame Thuillier,
Madame de Godollo, Colleville, and Phellion. Madame Colleville
followed him; and, under the influence of the feeling of jealousy she
had just shown, she became a savage mother.
"Celeste," she said, "why don't you sing? These gentlemen wish to hear
you."
"Oh, mamma!" cried the girl, "how can I sing after Madame de Godollo,
with my poor thread of a voice? Besides, you know I have a cold."
"That is to say that, as usual, you make yourself pretentious and
disagreeable; people sing as they can sing; all voices have their own
merits."
"My dear," said Colleville, who, having just lost twenty francs at the
card-tables, found courage in his ill-humor to oppose his wife, "that
saying, 'People sing as they can sing' is a bourgeois maxim. People
sing with a voice, if they have one; but they don't sing after hearing
such a magnificent opera voice as that of Madame la comtesse. For my
part, I readily excuse Celeste for not warbling to us one of her
sentimental little ditties."
"Then it is well worth while," said Flavie, leaving the group, "to
spend so much money on expensive masters who are good for nothing."
"So," said Colleville, resuming the conversation which the invasion of
Flavie had interrupted, "Felix no longer inhabits this earth; he lives
among the stars?"
"My dear and former colleague," said Phellion, "I am, as you are,
annoyed with my son for neglecting, as he does, the oldest friends of
his family; and though the contemplation of those great luminous
bodies suspended in space by the hand of the Creator presents, in my
opinion, higher interest than it appears to have to your more eager
brain, I think that Felix, by not coming here to-night, as he promised
me he would, shows a want of propriety, about which, I can assure you
I shall speak my mind."
"Science," said la Peyrade, "is a fine thing, but it has,
unfortunately, the attribute of making bears and monomaniacs."
"Not to mention," said Celeste, "that it destroys all religious
sentiments."
"You are mistaken there, my dear child," said Madame de Godollo.
"Pascal, who was himself a great example of the falseness of your
point of view, says, if I am not mistaken, that a little science draws
us from religion, but a great deal draws us back to it."
"And yet, madame," said Celeste, "every one admits that Monsieur Felix
is really very learned; when he helped my brother with his studies
nothing could be, so Francois told me, clearer or more comprehensible
than his explanations; and you see, yourself, he is not the more
religious for that."
"I tell you, my dear child, that Monsieur Felix is not irreligious,
and with a little gentleness and patience nothing would be easier than
to bring him back."
"Bring back a savant to the duties of religion!" exclaimed la Peyrade.
"Really, madame, that seems to me very difficult. These gentlemen put
the object of their studies before everything else. Tell a
geometrician or a geologist, for example, that the Church demands,
imperatively, the sanctification of the Sabbath by the suspension of
all species of work, and they will shrug their shoulders, though God
Himself did not disdain to rest from His labors."
"So that in not coming here this evening," said Celeste, naively,
"Monsieur Felix commits not only a fault against good manners, but a
sin."
"But, my dearest," said Madame de Godollo, "do you think that our
meeting here this evening to sing ballads and eat ices and say evil of
our neighbor--which is the customary habit of salons--is more pleasing
to God than to see a man of science in his observatory busied in
studying the magnificent secrets of His creation?"
"There's a time for all things," said Celeste; "and, as Monsieur de la
Peyrade says, God Himself did not disdain to rest."
"But, my love," said Madame de Godollo, "God has time to do so; He is
eternal."
"That," said la Peyrade, "is one of the wittiest impieties ever
uttered; those are the reasons that the world's people put forth. They
interpret and explain away the commands of God, even those that are
most explicit and imperative; they take them, leave them, or choose
among them; the free-thinker subjects them to his lordly revision, and
from free-thinking the distance is short to free actions."
During this harangue of the barrister Madame de Godollo had looked at
the clock; it then said half-past eleven. The salon began to empty.
Only one card-table was still going on, Minard, Thuillier, and two of
the new acquaintances being the players. Phellion had just quitted the
group with which he had so far been sitting, to join his wife, who was
talking with Brigitte in a corner; by the vehemence of his pantomimic
action it was easy to see that he was filled with some virtuous
indignation. Everything seemed to show that all hope of seeing the
arrival of the tardy lover was decidedly over.
"Monsieur," said the countess to la Peyrade, "do you consider the
gentlemen attached to Saint-Jacques du Haut Pas in the rue des Postes
good Catholics?"
"Undoubtedly," replied the barrister, "religion has no more loyal
supporters."
"This morning," continued the countess, "I had the happiness to be
received by Pere Anselme. He is thought the model of all Christian
virtues, and yet the good father is a very learned mathematician."
"I have not said, madame, that the two qualities were absolutely
incompatible."
"But you did say that a true Christian could not attend to any species
of work on Sunday. If so, Pere Anselme must be an unbeliever; for when
I was admitted to his room I found him standing before a blackboard
with a bit of chalk in his hand, busy with a problem which was, no
doubt, knotty, for the board was three-parts covered with algebraic
signs; and I must add that he did not seem to care for the scandal
this ought to cause, for he had with him an individual whom I am not
allowed to name, a younger man of science, of great promise, who was
sharing his profane occupation."
Celeste and Madame Thuillier looked at each other, and both saw a
gleam of hope in the other's eyes.
"Why can't you tell us the name of that young man of science?" Madame
Thuillier ventured to say, for she never put any diplomacy into the
expression of her thoughts.
"Because he has not, like Pere Anselme, the saintliness which would
absolve him in the eyes of monsieur here
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