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"You will, perhaps, have done yourself a service." "Ah! if Thuillier has told you my secret, I must leave this house." Brigitte looked up. "Did he tell you that I love Celeste?" "No, on my word of honor!" cried Brigitte, "but I myself was just about to speak of her." "And offer her to me? Oh! may God forgive us!
Celeste, ashamed to see her sister-in-law displaying such energy in household work, endeavored to help her, and fell ill in consequence. Instantly, Brigitte was devoted to her, nursed her like a beloved sister, and would say, in presence of Thuillier: "You haven't any strength, my child; you must never do anything again."
"That young man has great capacity," said Thuillier, sententiously. "Yes, that he has," replied Brigitte, extinguishing the lamps. "He has religion," said Madame Thuillier, as she left the room.
"Bless me! my friend," said Thuillier, flippantly, "you said we were in want of a romance-feuilletonist; but really, after this, I sha'n't be uneasy. Here's imagination for you!" "What?" said la Peyrade, angrily, "you don't believe me?" "No, I do not believe you.
Seeing his visitor, Cerizet cast a savage look at him and said, without rising, or suspending the copy of the judgment he was then engrossing: "You here, Sieur la Peyrade? You have been doing fine things for your friend Thuillier!" "How are you?" asked la Peyrade, in a tone both resolute and friendly. "I?" replied Cerizet.
He stationed himself near Madame Thuillier, imagining that Madame Thuillier would attract Celeste to her side.
We shall all live together as one family, and I'll undertake to make my own fortune, now that I am free from anxiety about the future." "That suits me," said Thuillier; "that's the talk of an honest man." "Let me kiss you on the forehead, my son," said the old maid; "but, inasmuch as Celeste cannot be allowed to go without a 'dot, we shall give her sixty thousand francs."
The evening of the day on which Flavie had communicated to Celeste the sovereign orders of Thuillier, the Phellions called to spend the evening with Brigitte, and a very sharp engagement took place between the two young people.
"Diplomacy!" echoed Brigitte. "I'd like to see myself creeping underground in matters. I say things as I think them. The workman has worked, and he ought to have his pay." "Do be silent," cried Thuillier, stamping his foot; "you don't say a word that doesn't turn the knife in the wound." "The knife in the wound?" said Brigitte, inquiringly. "Ah ca! are you two quarrelling?"
"I am a non-dispossessable property-owner!" cried Thuillier, coming home after visiting his notary. "No human power can get that house away from me. Cardot says so." The bourgeoisie think much more of what their notary tells them than of what their attorney says. The notary is nearer to them than any other ministerial officer.
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