dwelling. But where is
Madame Phellion?" added the worthy man, impatiently, going towards the
door.

"No, I beg of you, don't disturb her," said the countess; "I have
heedlessly come at a moment when she is busy with household cares.
Brigitte has been my educator in such matters, and I know the respect we
ought to pay to good housekeepers. Besides, I have the pleasure of your
presence, which I scarcely expected."

Before Phellion could reply to these obliging words, Madame Phellion
appeared. A cap with ribbons had taken the place of the market bonnet,
and a large shawl covered the other insufficiencies of the morning
toilet. When his wife arrived, the great citizen made as though he would
discreetly retire.

"Monsieur Phellion," said the countess, "you are not one too many in
the conference I desire with madame; on the contrary, your excellent
judgment will be most useful in throwing light upon a matter as
interesting to you as to your wife. I allude to the marriage of your
son."

"The marriage of my son!" cried Madame Phellion, with a look of
astonishment; "but I am not aware that anything of the kind is at
present in prospect."

"The marriage of Monsieur Felix with Mademoiselle Celeste is, I think,
one of your strongest desires--"

"But we have never," said Phellion, "taken any overt steps for that
object."

"I know that only too well," replied the countess; "on the contrary,
every one in your family seems to study how to defeat my efforts in that
direction. However, one thing is clear in spite of the reserve, and,
you must allow me to say so, the clumsiness in which the affair has been
managed, and that is that the young people love each other, and
they will both be unhappy if they do not marry. Now, to prevent this
catastrophe is the object with which I have come here this morning."

"We cannot, madame, be otherwise than deeply sensible of the interest
you are so good as to show in the happiness of our son," said Phellion;
"but, in truth, this interest--"

"Is something so inexplicable," interrupted the countess, "that you feel
a distrust of it?"

"Oh! madame!" said Phellion, bowing with an air of respectful dissent.

"But," continued the lady, "the explanation of my proceeding is very
simple. I have studied Celeste, and in that dear and artless child I
find a moral weight and value which would make me grieve to see her
sacrificed."

"You are right, madame," said Madame Phellion. "Celeste is, indeed