The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honoré de Balzac
page 130 of 666 (19%)
page 130 of 666 (19%)
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Celeste Colleville here said timidly:--
"Mamma, will you permit me to give a toast?" The good girl had noticed the dull, bewildered look of her godmother, neglected and forgotten,--she, the mistress of that house, wearing almost the expression of a dog that is doubtful which master to obey, looking from the face of her terrible sister-in-law to that of Thuillier, consulting each countenance, and oblivious of herself; but joy on the face of that poor helot, accustomed to be nothing, to repress her ideas, her feelings, had the effect of a pale wintry sun behind a mist; it barely lighted her faded, flabby flesh. The gauze cap trimmed with dingy flowers, the hair ill-dressed, the gloomy brown gown, with no ornament but a thick gold chain--all, combined with the expression of her countenance, stimulated the affection of the young Celeste, who--alone in the world--knew the value of that woman condemned to silence but aware of all about her, suffering from all yet consoling herself in God and in the girl who now was watching her. "Yes, let the dear child give us her little toast," said la Peyrade to Madame Colleville. "Go on, my daughter," cried Colleville; "here's the hermitage still to be drunk--and it's hoary with age," he added. "To my kind godmother!" said the girl, lowering her glass respectfully before Madame Thuillier, and holding it towards her. The poor woman, startled, looked through a veil of tears first at her husband, and then at Brigitte; but her position in the family was so |
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