The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (freenovel24 TXT) 📖
- Author: Honore de Balzac
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of the Sabbath. Besides," added Madame de Godollo, in a significant
manner, "he asked me not to mention that I had met him there."
"Then you know a good many scientific young men?" said Celeste,
interrogatively; "this one and Monsieur Felix--that makes two."
"My dear love," said the countess, "you are an inquisitive little
girl, and you will not make me say what I do not choose to say,
especially after a confidence that Pere Anselme made to me; for if I
did, your imagination would at once set off at a gallop."
The gallop had already started, and every word the countess said only
added to the anxious eagerness of the young girl.
"As for me," said la Peyrade, sarcastically, "I shouldn't be at all
surprised if Pere Anselme's young collaborator was that very Felix
Phellion. Voltaire always kept very close relations with the Jesuits
who brought him up; but he never talked religion with them."
"Well, my young savant does talk of it to his venerable brother in
science; he submits his doubts to him; in fact, that was the beginning
of their scientific intimacy."
"And does Pere Anselme," asked Celeste, "hope to convert him?"
"He is sure of it," replied the countess. "His young collaborator,
apart from a religious education which he certainly never had, has
been brought up to the highest principles; he knows, moreover, that
his conversion to religion would make the happiness of a charming girl
whom he loves, and who loves him. Now, my dear, you will not get
another word out of me, and you may think what you like."
"Oh! godmother!" whispered Celeste, yielding to the freshness of her
feelings, "suppose it were he!"
And the tears filled her eyes as she pressed Madame Thuillier's hand.
At this moment the servant threw open the door of the salon, and,
singular complication! announced Monsieur Felix Phellion.
The young professor entered the room, bathed in perspiration, his
cravat in disorder, and himself out of breath.
"A pretty hour," said Phellion, sternly, "to present yourself."
"Father," said Felix, moving to the side of the room where Madame
Thuillier and Celeste were seated, "I could not leave before the end
of the phenomenon; and then I couldn't find a carriage, and I have run
the whole way."
"Your ears ought to have burned as you came," said la Peyrade, "for
you have been for the last half-hour in the minds of these ladies, and
a great problem has been started about you."
Felix did not answer. He saw Brigitte entering the salon from the
dining-room where she had gone to tell the man-servant not to bring in
more trays, and he hurried to greet her.
After listening to a few reproaches for the rarity of his visits and
receiving forgiveness in a very cordial "Better late than never," he
turned towards his pole, and was much astonished to hear himself
addressed by Madame de Godollo as follows:--
"Monsieur," she said, "I hope you will pardon the indiscretion I have,
in the heat of conversation, committed about you. I have told these
ladies where I met you this morning."
"Met me?" said Felix; "if I had the honor to meet you, madame, I did
not see you."
An almost imperceptible smile flickered on la Peyrade's lips.
"You saw me well enough to ask me to keep silence as to where I had
met you; but, at any rate, I did not go beyond a simple statement; I
said you saw Pere Anselme sometimes, and had certain scientific
relations with him; also that you defended your religious doubts to
him as you do to Celeste."
"Pere Anselme!" said Felix, stupidly.
"Yes, Pere Anselme," said la Peyrade, "a great mathematician who does
not despair of converting you. Mademoiselle Celeste wept for joy."
Felix looked around him with a bewildered air. Madame de Godollo fixed
upon him a pair of eyes the language of which a poodle could have
understood.
"I wish," he said finally, "I could have given that joy to
Mademoiselle Celeste, but I think, madame, you are mistaken."
"Ah! monsieur, then I must be more precise," said the countess, "and
if your modesty still induces you to hide a step that can only honor
you, you can contradict me; I will bear the mortification of having
divulged a secret which, I acknowledge, you trusted implicitly to my
discretion."
Madame Thuillier and Celeste were truly a whole drama to behold; never
were doubt and eager expectation more plainly depicted on the human
face. Measuring her words deliberately, Madame de Godollo thus
continued:--
"I said to these ladies, because I know how deep an interest they take
in your salvation, and because you are accused of boldly defying the
commandments of God by working on Sundays, that I had met you this
morning at the house of Pere Anselme, a mathematician like yourself,
with whom you were busy in solving a problem; I said that your
scientific intercourse with that saintly and enlightened man had led
to other explanations between you; that you had submitted to him your
religious doubts, and he did not despair of removing them. In the
confirmation you can give of my words there is nothing, I am sure, to
wound your self-esteem. The matter was simply a surprise you intended
for Celeste, and I have had the stupidity to divulge it. But when she
hears you admit the truth of my words you will have given her such
happiness that I shall hope to be forgiven."
"Come, monsieur," said la Peyrade, "there's nothing absurd or
mortifying in having sought for light; you, so honorable and so truly
an enemy to falsehood, you cannot deny what madame affirms with such
decision."
"Well," said Felix, after a moment's hesitation, "will you,
Mademoiselle Celeste, allow me to say a few words to you in private,
without witnesses?"
Celeste rose, after receiving an approving sign from Madame Thuillier.
Felix took her hand and led her to the recess of the nearest window.
"Celeste," he said, "I entreat you: wait! See," he added, pointing to
the constellation of Ursa Minor, "beyond those visible stars a future
lies before us; I will place you there. As for Pere Anselme, I cannot
admit what has been said, for it is not true. It is an invented tale.
But be patient with me; you shall soon know all."
"He is mad!" said the young girl, in tones of despair, as she resumed
her place beside Madame Thuillier.
Felix confirmed this judgment by rushing frantically from the salon,
without perceiving the emotion in which his father and his mother
started after him. After this sudden departure, which stupefied
everybody, la Peyrade approached Madame de Godollo very respectfully,
and said to her:--
"You must admit, madame, that it is difficult to drag a man from the
water when he persists in being drowned."
"I had no idea until this moment of such utter simplicity," replied
the countess; "it is too silly. I pass over to the enemy; and with
that enemy I am ready and desirous to have, whenever he pleases, a
frank and honest explanation."
CHAPTER IV (HUNGARY VERSUS PROVENCE)The next day Theodose felt himself possessed by two curiosities: How
would Celeste behave as to the option she had accepted? and this
Comtesse Torna de Godollo, what did she mean by what she had said; and
what did she want with him?
The first of these questions seemed, undoubtedly, to have the right of
way, and yet, by some secret instinct, la Peyrade felt more keenly
drawn toward the conclusion of the second problem. He decided,
therefore, to take his first step in that direction, fully
understanding that he could not too carefully arm himself for the
interview to which the countess had invited him.
The morning had been rainy, and this great calculator was, of course,
not ignorant how much a spot of mud, tarnishing the brilliancy of
varnished boots, could lower a man in the opinion of some. He
therefore sent his porter for a cabriolet, and about three o'clock in
the afternoon he drove from the rue Saint-Dominique d'Enfer toward the
elegant latitudes of the Madeleine. It may well be believed that
certain cares had been bestowed upon his toilet, which ought to
present a happy medium between the negligent ease of a morning costume
and the ceremonious character of an evening suit. Condemned by his
profession to a white cravat, which he rarely laid aside, and not
venturing to present himself in anything but a dress-coat, he felt
himself being drawn, of necessity, to one of the extremes he desired
to avoid. However by buttoning up his coat and wearing tan instead of
straw-colored gloves, he managed to _unsolemnize_ himself, and to
avoid that provincial air which a man in full dress walking the streets
of Paris while the sun is above the horizon never fails to convey.
The wary diplomatist was careful not to drive to the house where he
was going. He was unwilling to be seen from the countess' entresol
issuing from a hired cab, and from the first floor he feared to be
discovered stopping short on his way up at the lower floor,--a
proceeding which could not fail to give rise to countless conjectures.
He therefore ordered the driver to pull up at the corner of the rue
Royale, whence, along a pavement that was now nearly dry, he picked
his way on tiptoe to the house. It so chanced that he was not seen by
either the porter or his wife; the former being beadle of the church
of the Madeleine, was absent at a service, and the wife had just gone
up to show a vacant apartment to a lodger. Theodose was therefore able
to glide unobserved to the door of the sanctuary he desired to
penetrate. A soft touch of his hand to the silken bell-rope caused a
sound which echoed from the interior of the apartment. A few seconds
elapsed, and then another and more imperious bell of less volume
seemed to him a notification to the maid that her delay in opening the
door was displeasing to her mistress. A moment later, a waiting-woman,
of middle age, and too well trained to dress like a "soubrette" of
comedy, opened the door to him.
The lawyer gave his name, and the woman ushered him into a
dining-room, severely luxurious, where she asked him to wait. A moment
later, however, she returned, and admitted him into the most
coquettish and splendid salon it was possible to insert beneath the
low ceilings of an entresol. The divinity of the place was seated
before a writing-table covered with a Venetian cloth, in which gold
glittered in little spots among the dazzling colors of the tapestry.
"Will you allow me, monsieur, to finish a letter of some importance?"
she said.
The barrister bowed in sign of assent. The handsome Hungarian then
concluded a note on blue English paper, which she placed in an
envelope; after sealing it carefully, she rang the bell. The maid
appeared immediately and lighted a little spirit lamp; above the lamp
was suspended a sort of tiny crucible, in which was a drop of
sealing-wax; as soon as this had melted, the maid poured it on the
envelope, presenting to her mistress a seal with armorial bearings.
This the countess imprinted on the wax with her own beautiful hands,
and then said:--
"Take the letter at once to that address."
The woman made a movement to take the letter, but, either from haste
or inadvertence, the paper fell from her hand close to la Peyrade's
feet. He stooped hastily to pick it up, and read the direction
involuntarily. It bore the words, "His Excellency the Minister of
Foreign Affairs"; the significant words, "For him only," written
higher up, seemed to give this missive a character of intimacy.
"Pardon, monsieur," said the countess, receiving the paper, which he
had the good taste to return to her own hands in order to show his
eagerness to serve her. "Be so good, mademoiselle, as to carry that in
a way not to lose it," she added in a dry tone to the unlucky maid.
The countess then left her writing-table and took her seat on a sofa
covered with pearl-gray satin.
During these proceedings
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