Daddy Taille had three daughters: Anna, the eldest, who was scarcely
ever mentioned in the family; Rose, the second girl, who was eighteen;
and Clara, the youngest, who was a girl of fifteen.
Old Taille was a widower, and a foreman in M. Lebrument's
button-manufactory. He was a very upright man, very well thought of,
abstemious; in fact a sort of model workman. He lived at Havre, in the
Rue d'Angoulême.
When Anna ran away the old man flew into a fearful rage. He threatened
to kill the seducer, who was head clerk in a large draper's
establishment in that town. Then, when he was told by various people
that she was keeping very steady and investing money in Government
securities, that she was no gadabout, but was kept by a Mons. Dubois,
who was a judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, the father was appeased.
He even showed some anxiety as to how she was getting on, asked some of
her old friends who had been to see her how she was getting on; and when
told that she had her own furniture, and that her mantelpiece was
covered with vases and the walls with pictures, that there were clocks
and carpets everywhere, he gave a broad, contented smile. He had been
working for thirty years to get together a wretched five or six thousand
francs. This girl was evidently no fool.
One fine morning the son of Touchard, the cooper, at the other end of
the street, came and asked him for the hand of Rose, the second girl.
The old man's heart began to beat, for the Touchards were rich and in a
good position. He was decidedly lucky with his girls.
The marriage was agreed upon, and it was settled that it should be a
grand affair, and the wedding dinner was to be held at Sainte-Adresse,
at Mother Lusa's restaurant. It would cost a lot certainly; but never
mind, it did not matter just for once in a way.
But one morning, just as the old man was going home to breakfast with
his two daughters the door opened suddenly, and Anna appeared. She was
elegantly dressed, wore rings and an expensive bonnet, and looked
undeniably pretty and nice. She threw her arms round her father's neck
before he could say a word, then fell into her sister's arms with many
tears, and then asked for a plate, so that she might share the family
soup. Taille was moved to tears in his turn and said several times:
"That is right, dear; that is right."
Then she told them about herself. She did not wish Rose's wedding to
take place at Sainte-Adresse,--certainly not. It should take place at
her house, and would cost her father nothing. She had settled everything
and arranged everything, so it was "no good to say any more about
it,--there!"
"Very well, my dear! very well!" the old man said, "we will leave it
so." But then he felt some doubt. Would the Touchards consent? But Rose,
the bride-elect, was surprised and asked, "Why should they object, I
should like to know? Just leave that to me, I will talk to Philip about
it."
She mentioned it to her lover the very same day, and he declared that
it would suit him exactly. Father and Mother Touchard were naturally
delighted at the idea of a good dinner which would cost them nothing,
and said:
"You may be quite sure that everything will be in first-rate style, as
M. Dubois is made of money."
They asked to be allowed to bring a friend, Mme. Florence, the cook on
the first floor, and Anna agreed to everything.
The wedding was fixed for the last Tuesday of the month.