“The fulfilment of these pledges was postponed to a rather distant period, and subordinated to certain conditions.  Monsieur de la Peyrade, after enabling them to buy the house near the Madeleine, pledged himself not only to obtain the cross for Monsieur Thuillier, but to write in his name a political pamphlet, and assist him in his election to the Chamber of Deputies.  It sounds like the romances of chivalry, in which the hero, before obtaining the hand of the princess, is compelled to exterminate a dragon.”

“Madame is very witty,” said Madame Phellion, looking at her husband, who made her a sign not to interrupt.

“I have no time now,” said the countess; “in fact it would be useless to tell you the manoeuvres by which Monsieur de la Peyrade has contrived to hasten the period of this marriage; but it concerns you to know that, thanks to his duplicity, Celeste is being forced to choose between him and Monsieur Felix; fifteen days were given her in which to make her choice; the time expires to-morrow, and, thanks to the unfortunate state of feeling into which your son’s attitude has thrown her, there is very serious danger of seeing her sacrifice to her wounded feelings the better sentiments of her love and her instincts.”

“But what can be done to prevent it?” asked Phellion.

“Fight, monsieur; come this evening in force to the Thuilliers’; induce Monsieur Felix to accompany you; lecture him until he promises to be a little more flexible in his philosophical opinions.  Paris, said Henri IV., is surely worth a mass.  But let him avoid all such questions; he can certainly find in his heart the words and tones to move a woman who loves him; it requires so little to satisfy her!  I shall be there myself, and I will help him to my utmost ability; perhaps, under the inspiration of the moment, I may think of some way to do effectually.  One thing is very certain:  we have to fight a great battle to-night, and if we do not ALL do our duty valorously, la Peyrade may win it.”

“My son is not here, madame,” said Phellion, “and I regret it, for perhaps your generous devotion and urgent words would succeed in shaking off his torpor; but, at any rate, I will lay before him the gravity of the situation, and, beyond all doubt, he will accompany us to-night to the Thuilliers’.”

“It is needless to say,” added the countess, rising, “that we must carefully avoid the very slightest appearance of collusion; we must not converse together; in fact, unless it can be done in some casual way, it would be better not to speak.”

“I beg you to rely, madame, upon my prudence,” replied Phellion, “and kindly accept the assurance—­”

“Of your most distinguished sentiments,” interrupted the countess, laughing.

“No, madame,” replied Phellion, gravely, “I reserve that formula for the conclusion of my letters; I beg you to accept the assurance of my warmest and most unalterable gratitude.”