Phellion, with his eyes full of tears, went up to his eldest son and
took him in his arms, saying, "My son! my son!" in a choking voice.

"All that is nonsense," whispered Madame Phellion in Madame Barniol's
ear. "Come and dress me; I shall make an end of this; I know your
father; he has put his foot down now. To carry out the plan that pious
young man, Theodose, suggested, I want your help; hold yourself ready
to give it, my daughter."

At this moment, Genevieve came in and gave a letter to Monsieur
Phellion.

"An invitation for dinner to-day, for Madame Phellion and Felix and
myself, at the Thuilliers'," he said.

The magnificent and surprising idea of Thuillier's municipal
advancement, put forth by the "advocate of the poor" was not less
upsetting in the Thuillier household than it was in the Phellion
salon. Jerome Thuillier, without actually confiding anything to his
sister, for he made it a point of honor to obey his Mephistopheles,
had rushed to her in great excitement to say:--

"My dearest girl" (he always touched her heart with those caressing
words), "we shall have some big-wigs at dinner to-day. I'm going to
ask the Minards; therefore take pains about your dinner. I have
written to Monsieur and Madame Phellion; it is rather late; but
there's no need of ceremony with them. As for the Minards, I must
throw a little dust in their eyes; I have a particular need of them."