"Monsieur Phellion," said the countess, "you are not one too many in the conference I desire with madame; on the contrary, your excellent judgment will be most useful in throwing light upon a matter as interesting to you as to your wife. I allude to the marriage of your son.""The marriage of my son!" cried Madame Phellion, with a look of astonishment; "but I am not aware that anything of the kind is at present in prospect.""The marriage of Monsieur Felix with Mademoiselle Celeste is, I think, one of your strongest desires--""But we have never," said Phellion, "taken any overt steps for that object.""I know that only too well," replied the countess; "on the contrary, every one in your family seems to study how to defeat my efforts in that direction. However, one thing is clear in spite of the reserve, and, you must allow me to say so, the clumsiness in which the affair has been managed, and that is that the young people love each other, and they will both be unhappy if they do not marry. Now, to prevent this catastrophe is the object with which I have come here this morning.""We cannot, madame, be otherwise than deeply sensible of the interest you are so good as to show in the happiness of our son," said Phellion; "but, in truth, this interest--""Is something so inexplicable," interrupted the countess, "that you feel a distrust of it?""Oh! madame!" said Phellion, bowing with an air of respectful dissent.
"But," continued the lady, "the explanation of my proceeding is very simple. I have studied Celeste, and in that dear and artless child Ifind a moral weight and value which would make me grieve to see her sacrificed.""You are right, madame," said Madame Phellion. "Celeste is, indeed, an angel of sweetness.""As for monsieur Felix, I venture to interest myself because, in the first place, he is the son of so virtuous a father--""Oh, madame! I entreat--" said Phellion, bowing again.
