ing in matters that were
absolutely out of his province. In short, he reassured her so completely
that she urged him to take immediate steps for the publication of the
banns and the signature of the marriage contract,--declaring that she
reserved to herself all the preparations relating to Celeste, whose
acceptance of this sudden conclusion she pledged herself to secure.

"My dear child," she said to Celeste the next morning, "I think you have
given up all idea of being Felix Phellion's wife. In the first place,
he is more of an atheist than ever, and, besides, you must have noticed
yourself that his mind is quite shaky. You have seen at Madame Minard's
that Madame Marmus, who married a savant, officer of the Legion of
honor, and member of the Institute. There's not a more unhappy woman;
her husband has taken her to live behind the Luxembourg, in the rue
Duguay-Trouin, a street that is neither paved nor lighted. When he goes
out, he doesn't know where he is going; he gets to the Champ de Mars
when he wants to go to the Faubourg Poissoniere; he isn't even capable
of giving his address to the driver of a street cab; and he is so
absent-minded he couldn't tell if it were before dinner or after. You
can imagine what sort of time a woman must have with a man whose nose is
always at a telescope snuffing stars."

"But Felix," said Celeste, "is not as absent-minded as that."

"Of course not, because he is younger; but with years his
absent-mindedness and his atheism will both increase. We have therefore
decided that he is not the husband you want, and we all, your mother,
father, Thuillier and myself, have determined that you shall take la
Peyrade, a man of the world, who will make his way, and one who has
done us great services in the past, and who will, moreover, make your
godfather deputy. We are disposed to give you, in consideration of him,
a much larger 'dot' than we should give to any other husband. So, my
dear, it is settled; the banns are to be published immediately, and
this day week we sign the contract. There's to be a great dinner for the
family and intimates, and after that a reception, at which the contract
will be signed and your trousseau and corbeille exhibited. As I take all
that into my own hands I'll answer for it that everything shall be of
the best kind; especially if you are not babyish, and give in pleasantly
to our ideas."

"But, aunt Brigitte," began Celeste, timidly.

"There's no 'but,' in the m