“He seems to keep aloof from our strictures, the dear husband!” cried Minard; “but just see how he goes beyond them!”

“I!” said Phellion; “it is neither my intention nor my habit to do so.”

“All the same it would be difficult to say more neatly that the Thuilliers are geese, and that Madame de Godollo is bringing them up by hand.”

“I do not accept for these friends of ours,” said Phellion, “a characterization so derogatory to their repute.  I meant to say that they were lacking, perhaps, in that form of experience, and that this noble lady has placed at their service her knowledge of the world and its usages.  I protest against any interpretation of my language which goes beyond my thought thus limited.”

“Well, anyhow, you will agree, my dear commander, that in the idea of giving Celeste to this la Peyrade, there is something more than want of experience; there is, it must be said, blundering folly and immorality; for really the goings on of that barrister with Madame Colleville—­”

“Monsieur le maire,” interrupted Phellion, with redoubled solemnity, “Solon, the law-giver, decreed no punishment for parricide, declaring it to be an impossible crime.  I think the same thing may be said of the offence to which you seem to make allusion.  Madame Colleville granting favors to Monsieur de la Peyrade, and all the while intending to give him her daughter?  No, monsieur, no! that passes imagination.  Questioned on this subject, like Marie Antoinette, by a human tribunal, Madame Colleville would answer with the queen, ’I appeal to all mothers.’”

“Nevertheless, my friend,” said Madame Phellion, “allow me to remind you that Madame Colleville is excessively light-minded, and has given, as we al know, pretty good proofs of it.”

“Enough, my dear,” said Phellion.  “The dinner hour summons us; I think that, little by little, we have allowed this conversation to drift toward the miry slough of backbiting.”

“You are full of illusions, my dear commander,” said Minard, taking Phellion by the hand and shaking it; “but they are honorable illusions, and I envy them.  Madame, I have the honor—­” added the mayor, with a respectful bow to Madame Phellion.

And each party took its way.

CHAPTER II

THE PROVENCAL’S PRESENT POSITION

The information acquired by the mayor of the 11th arrondissement was by no means incorrect.  In the Thuillier salon, since the emigration to the Madeleine quarter, might be seen daily, between the tart Brigitte and the plaintive Madame Thuillier, the graceful and attractive figure of a woman who conveyed to this salon an appearance of the most unexpected elegance.  It was quite true that through the good offices of this lady, who had become her tenant in the new house, Brigitte had made a speculation in furniture not less advantageous in its way, but more avowable, than the very shady purchase of the house itself.  For six thousand francs in ready money she had obtained furniture lately from workshops representing a value of at least thirty thousand.