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 of the notary.
Off she went to la Peyrade's lodgings; there she was told he was dining at the Thuilliers'; to the Thuilliers' she came, after running about the streets--for they didn't give her quite the right address--till ten o'clock; but she got there while the company were still sitting round waiting for the notary, and gaping at each other, no one knowing what to say and do, for neither Brigitte nor Thuillier have faculty enough to get out of such a scrape with credit; and we all missed the voice of Madame de Godollo and the talent of Madame Phellion.""Oh! you are too polite, Monsieur le maire," said Madame Phellion, bridling.
