The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (freenovel24 TXT) 📖
- Author: Honore de Balzac
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"He is the devil in person," thought Brigitte; "not a word of excuse
about all that glass, but he must needs fall foul of my brandy too!
--Monsieur," she resumed, in the same raised diapason, "as Monsieur
Felix is not coming, don't you think your family will be uneasy at
your absence?"
"Family? I haven't any, madame, owing to the fact that they want to
make me out a lunatic. But I have a housekeeper, Madame Lambert, and I
dare say she will be surprised not to see me home by this time. I
think I had better go now; if I stay later, the scene might be more
violent. But I must own that in this strange quarter I am not sure if
I can find my way."
"Then take a carriage."
"Carriage here, carriage there, indeed! my spiteful relations wouldn't
lose the chance of calling me a spendthrift."
"I have an important message to send into your quarter," said
Brigitte, seeing she must resolve to make the sacrifice, "and I have
just told my porter to take a cab and attend to it. If you would like
to take advantage of that convenience--"
"I accept it, madame," said the old professor, rising; "and, if it
comes to the worst, I hope you will testify before the judge that I
was niggardly about a cab."
"Henri," said Brigitte to the man-servant, "take monsieur down to the
porter and tell him to do the errand I told him about just now, and to
take monsieur to his own door, and be very careful of him."
"Careful of him!" echoed the old man. "Do you take me for a trunk,
madame, or a bit of cracked china?"
Seeing that she had got her man fairly to the door, Brigitte allowed
herself to turn upon him.
"What I say, monsieur, is for your good. You must allow me to observe
that you have not an agreeable nature."
"Careful of him! careful of him!" repeated the old man. "Don't you
know, madame, that by the use of such words you may get people put
into lunatic asylums? However, I will not reply rudely to the polite
hospitality I have received,--all the more because, I think, I have
put Monsieur Felix, who missed me intentionally, in his right place."
"Go, go, go, you old brute!" cried Brigitte, slamming the door behind
him.
Before returning to the salon she was obliged to drink a whole
glassful of water, the restraint she had been forced to put upon
herself in order to get rid of this troublesome guest having, to use
her own expression, "put her all about."
CHAPTER XIII (THE MAN WHO THINKS THE STAR TOO BRIGHT)The next morning Minard paid a visit to Phellion in his study. The
great citizen and his son Felix were at that moment engaged in a
conversation which seemed to have some unusual interest for them.
"My dear Felix," cried the mayor of the eleventh arrondissement,
offering his hand warmly to the young professor, "it is you who bring
me here this morning; I have come to offer you my congratulations."
"What has occurred?" asked Phellion. "Have the Thuilliers--"
"It has nothing to do with the Thuilliers," interrupted the mayor.
"But," he added, looking hard at Felix, "can that sly fellow have
concealed the thing even from you?"
"I do not think," said Phellion, "that ever, in his life, has my son
concealed a thing from me."
"Then you know about the sublime astronomical discovery which he
communicated to the Academy of Sciences yesterday?"
"Your kindness for me, Monsieur le maire," said Felix, hastily, "has
led you astray; I was only the reader of the communication."
"Oh! let me alone!" said Minard; "reader, indeed! I know all about
it."
"But see," said Felix, offering Minard the "Constitutionnel," "here's
the paper; not only does it announce that Monsieur Picot is the maker
of the discovery, but it mentions the rewards which, without losing a
moment, the government has bestowed upon him."
"Felix is right," said Phellion; "that journal is to be trusted. On
this occasion I think the government has acted very properly."
"But, my dear commander, I repeat to you that the truth of the affair
has got wind, and your son is shown to be a most admirable fellow. To
put his own discovery to the credit of his old professor so as to
obtain for him the recognition and favor of the authorities--upon my
word, in all antiquity I don't know a finer trait!"
"Felix!" said Phellion, beginning to show some emotion, "these immense
labors to which you have devoted so much time of late, these continual
visits to the Observatory--"
"But, father," interrupted Felix, "Monsieur Minard has been
misinformed."
"Misinformed!" cried Minard, "when I know the whole affair from
Monsieur Picot himself!"
At this argument, stated in a way to leave no possible doubt, the
truth began to dawn upon Phellion.
"Felix, my son!" he said, rising to embrace him.
But he was obliged to sit down again; his legs refused to bear his
weight; he turned pale; and that nature, ordinarily so impassible,
seemed about to give way under the shock of this happiness.
"My God!" said Felix, terrified, "he is ill; ring the bell, I entreat
you, Monsieur Minard."
And he ran to the old man, loosened his cravat and unfastened the
collar of his shirt, striking him in the palms of his hands. But the
sudden faintness was but momentary; almost immediately himself again,
Phellion gathered his son to his heart, and holding him long in his
embrace, he said, in a voice broken by the tears that came to put an
end to this shock of joy:--
"Felix, my noble son! so great in heart, so great in mind!"
The bell had been rung by Minard with magisterial force, and with such
an accent that the whole household was alarmed, and came running in.
"It is nothing, it is nothing," said Phellion to the servants, sending
them away. But almost at the same moment, seeing his wife, who now
entered the room, he resumed his habitual solemnity.
"Madame Phellion," he said, pointing to Felix, "how many years is it
since you brought that young man into the world?"
Madame Phellion, bewildered by the question, hesitated a moment, and
then said:--
"Twenty-five years next January."
"Have you not thought, until now, that God had amply granted your
maternal desires by making this child of your womb an honest man, a
pious son, and by gifting him for mathematics, that Science of
sciences, with an aptitude sufficiently remarkable?"
"I have," said Madame Phellion, understanding less and less what her
husband was coming to.
"Well," continued Phellion, "you owe to God an additional
thanksgiving, for He has granted that you be the mother of a man of
genius; his toil, which lately we rebuked, and which made us fear for
the reason of our child, was the way--the rough and jagged way--by
which men come to fame."
"Ah ca!" cried Madame Phellion, "can't you stop coming yourself to an
explanation of what you mean, and get there?"
"Your son," said Minard, cautious this time in measuring the joy he
was about to bestow, fearing another fainting-fit of happiness, "has
just made a very important scientific discovery."
"Is it true?" said Madame Phellion, going up to Felix, and taking him
by both hands as she looked at him lovingly.
"When I say important," continued Minard, "I am only sparing your
maternal emotions; it is, in truth, a sublime, a dazzling discovery.
He is only twenty-five years old, but his name, from henceforth, is
immortal."
"And this is the man," said Madame Phellion, half beside herself, and
kissing Felix with effusion, "to whom that la Peyrade is preferred!"
"No, not preferred, madame," said Minard, "for the Thuilliers are not
the dupes of that adventurer. But he has made himself necessary to
them. Thuillier fancies that without la Peyrade he could not be
elected; the election is still doubtful, and they are sacrificing
everything to it."
"But isn't it odious," cried Madame Phellion, "to consider such
interests before the happiness of their child!"
"Ah!" said Minard, "but Celeste is not their child, only their adopted
daughter."
"Brigitte's, if you like," said Madame Phellion; "but as for
Thuillier--"
"My good wife," said Phellion, "no censoriousness. The good God has
just sent us a great consolation; and, indeed, though certainly far
advanced, this marriage, about which I regret to say Felix does not
behave with all the philosophy I could desire, may still not take
place."
Seeing that Felix shook his head with a look of incredulity, Minard
hastened to say:--
"Yes, yes, the commander is quite right. Last night there was a hitch
about signing the contract, and it was not signed. You were not there,
by the bye, and your absence was much remarked upon."
"We were invited," said Phellion, "and up to the last moment we
hesitated whether to go or not. But, as you will readily see, our
position was a false one; besides, Felix--and I see now it must have
been in consequence of his lecture at the Academy--was completely worn
out with fatigue and emotion. To present ourselves without him would
have seemed very singular; therefore we decided that it would be
wisest and best to absent ourselves."
The presence of the man whom he had just declared immortal did not
deter Minard, when the occasion was thus made for him, from plunging
eagerly into one of the most precious joys of bourgeois existence,
namely, the retailing of gossip.
"Just imagine!" he began; "last night at the Thuilliers' the most
extraordinary things took place, one after another."
First he related the curious episode of pere Picot. Then he told of
the hearty approbation given to Felix's conduct by the Abbe Gondrin,
and the desire the young preacher had expressed to meet him.
"I'll go and see him," said Felix; "do you know where he lives?"
"Rue de la Madeleine, No. 8," replied Minard. "But the great event of
the evening was the spectacle of that fine company assembled to listen
to the marriage-contract, and waiting in expectation a whole hour for
the notary, who--never came!"
"Then the contract is not signed?" said Felix, eagerly.
"Not even read, my friend. Suddenly some one came in and told Brigitte
that the notary had started for Brussels."
"Ah! no doubt," said Phellion, naively; "some very important
business."
"Most important," replied Minard; "a little bankruptcy of five hundred
thousand francs which the gentleman leaves behind him."
"But who is this public officer," demanded Phellion, "so recreant, in
this scandalous manner, to the sacred duties of his calling?"
"Parbleu! your neighbor in the rue Saint-Jacques, the notary Dupuis."
"What!" said Madame Phellion, "that pious man? Why, he is churchwarden
of the parish!"
"Eh! madame, those are the very ones," said Minard, "to run off--there
are many precedents for that."
"But," said Phellion, "such news cast suddenly among the company must
have fallen like a thunderbolt."
"Especially," said Minard, "as it was brought in the most unexpected
and singular manner."
"Tell us all about it," said Madame Phellion, with animation.
"Well, it seems," continued Minard, "that this canting swindler had
charge of the savings of a number of servants, and that Monsieur de la
Peyrade--because, you see, they are all of a clique, these pious
people--was in the habit of recruiting clients for him in that walk of
life--"
"I always said so!" interrupted Madame Phellion. "I knew that
Provencal was no good at all."
"It seems," continued the mayor, "that he had placed in Dupuis's hands
all the savings of an old housekeeper, pious herself, amounting to a
pretty little sum. Faith! I think myself it was worth some trouble.
How much do you suppose it was? Twenty-five thousand francs, if you
please! This housekeeper, whose name is Madame Lambert--"
"Madame Lambert!" cried Felix; "why, that's Monsieur Picot's
housekeeper; close cap, pale, thin face, speaks always with her eyes
lowered, shows no hair?"
"That's she," said Minard,--"a regular hypocrite!"
"Twenty-five thousand francs of savings!" said Felix. "I don't wonder
that poor pere Picot is always out of money."
"And that someone had to meddle with the sale of his book," said
Minard, slyly. "However that may be, you can imagine that the woman
was in a fine state of mind on hearing of the flight
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