“If we,” she ended by saying, “are to oppose each other for the rest of our days, it would be much better, from the beginning, to make two households; we shouldn’t be the less friends for that.”

La Peyrade replied that nothing under the sun would induce him to consent to such a plan; on the contrary, he regarded as amongst his happiest prospects for the future the security he should feel about the wise management of the material affairs of the home in such hands as hers.  He should have enough to do in the management of outside interests, and he could not comprehend, for his part, how she could suppose he had ever had the thought of interfering 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.”