anets; it is a great night at the Observatory, and he did
not feel willing to dispense with--"

"It is inconceivable that a man should be so foolish!" exclaimed Madame
de Godollo; "wasn't theology bad enough, that he must needs bring in
astronomy too?"

And her vexation gave to her voice so vibrating a tone that her song
ended in the midst of what the English call a thunder of applause. La
Peyrade, who feared her extremely, was not one of the last, when she
returned to her place, to approach her, and express his admiration; but
she received his compliments with a coldness so near to incivility that
their mutual hostility was greatly increased. La Peyrade turned away
to console himself with Madame Colleville, who had still too many
pretensions to beauty not to be the enemy of a woman made to intercept
all homage.

"So you also, you think that woman sings well?" she said,
contemptuously, to Theodose.

"At any rate, I have been to tell her so," replied la Peyrade, "because
without her, in regard to Brigitte, there's no security. But do just
look at your Celeste; her eyes never leave that door, and every time a
tray is brought in, though it is an hour at least since the last guest
came, her face expresses disappointment."

We must remark, in passing, that since the reign of Madame de Godollo
trays were passed round on the Sunday reception days, and that without
scrimping; on the contrary, they were laden with ices, cakes, and
syrups, from Taurade's, then the best confectioner.

"Don't harass me!" cried Flavie. "I know very well what that foolish
girl has in her mind; and your marriage will take place only too soon."

"But you know it is not for myself I make it," said la Peyrade; "it is
a necessity for the future of all of us. Come, come, there are tears in
your eyes! I shall leave you; you are not reasonable. The devil! as that
Prudhomme of a Phellion says, 'Whoso wants the end wants the means.'"

And he went toward the group composed of Celeste, Madame Thuillier,
Madame de Godollo, Colleville, and Phellion. Madame Colleville followed
him; and, under the influence of the feeling of jealousy she had just
shown, she became a savage mother.

"Celeste," she said, "why don't you sing? These gentlemen wish to hear
you."

"Oh, mamma!" cried the girl, "how can I sing after Madame de Godollo,
with my poor thread of a voice? Besides, you know I have a cold."

"That is to say that, as usual, you make yourself pretentious