"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 matter," said the old maid, imperiously; "it is all arranged, and will be carried out, unless, mademoiselle, you pretend to have more wisdom than your elders.""I will do as you choose, aunt," replied Celeste, feeling as if a thunder-cloud had burst upon her head, and knowing but too well that she had no power to struggle against the iron will which had just pronounced her doom.
She went at once to pour her sorrows into Madame Thuillier's soul; but when she heard her godmother advising patience and resignation the poor child felt that from that feeble quarter she could get no help for even the slightest effort of resistance, and that her sacrifice was virtually accomplished.
Precipitating herself with a sort of frenzy into the new element of activity thus introduced into her life, Brigitte took the field in the making of the trousseau and the purchase of the corbeille. Like many misers, who on great occasions come out of their habits and their nature, the old maid now thought nothing too good for her purpose; and she flung her money about so lavishly that until the day appointed for the signing of the contract, the jeweller, dressmaker, milliner, lingere, etc. (all chosen from the best establishments in Paris), seemed to occupy the house.
"It is like a procession," said Josephine, the cook, admiringly, to Francoise, the Minards' maid; "the bell never stops ringing from morning till night."