“Your dear little Celeste,” replied la Peyrade. “My love for her will be a pledge to you of my devotion. What would I not do for a father-in-law! This is pure selfishness; I shall be working for myself.”
“Hush!” cried Thuillier.
“Eh, my friend!” said la Peyrade, catching Thuillier round the body; “if I hadn’t Flavie on my side, and if I didn’t know all should I venture to be talking to you thus? But please say nothing to Flavie about this; wait till she speaks to you. Listen to me; I’m of the metal that makes ministers; I do not seek to obtain Celeste until I deserve her. You shall not be asked to give her to me until the day when your election as a deputy of Paris is assured. In order to be deputy of Paris, we must get the better of Minard; and in order to crush Minard you must keep in your own hands all your means of influence; for that reason use Celeste as a hope; we’ll play them off, these people, against each other and fool them all—Madame Colleville and you and I will be persons of importance one of these days. Don’t think me mercenary. I want Celeste without a ‘dot,’ with nothing more than her future expectations. To live in your family with you, to keep my wife in your midst, that is my desire. You see now that I have no hidden thoughts. As for you, my dear friend, six months after your election to the municipal council, you will have the cross of the Legion of honor, and when you are deputy you will be made an officer of it. As for your speeches in the Chamber—well! we’ll write them together. Perhaps it would be desirable for you to write a book,—a serious book on matters half moral and philanthropic, half political; such, for instance, as charitable institutions considered from the highest stand-point; or reforms in the pawning system, the abuses of which are really frightful. Let us fasten some slight distinction to your name; it will help you,—especially in the arrondissement. Now, I say again, trust me, believe in me; do not think of taking me into your family until you have the ribbon in your buttonhole on the morrow of the day when you take your seat in the Chamber. I’ll do more than that, however; I’ll put you in the way of making forty thousand francs a year.”
“For any one of those three things you shall have our Celeste,” said Thuillier.
“Ah! what a pearl she is!” exclaimed la Peyrade, raising his eyes to heaven. “I have the weakness to pray to God for her every day. She is charming; she is exactly like you—oh! nonsense; surely you needn’t caution me! Dutocq told me all. Well, I’ll be with you to-night. I must go to the Phellions’ now, and begin to work our plan. You don’t need me to caution you not to let it be known that you are thinking of me for Celeste; if you do, you’ll cut off my arms and legs. Therefore, silence! even to Flavie. Wait till she speaks to you herself. Phellion shall to-night broach the matter of proposing you as candidate for the council.”
“To-night?” said Thuillier.
“Yes, to-night,” replied la Peyrade, “unless I don’t find him at home now.”
Thuillier departed, saying to himself:—
“That’s a very superior man; we shall always understand each other. Faith! it might be hard to do better for Celeste. They will live with us, as in our own family, and that’s a good deal! Yes, he’s a fine fellow, a sound man.”
To minds of Thuillier’s calibre, a secondary consideration often assumes the importance of a principal reason. Theodose had behaved to him with charming bonhomie.