The Lesser Bourgeoisie, Honore de Balzac [good book recommendations .TXT] 📗

for this flagrant violation

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