I
Old 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-factory.
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 of a department 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 Monsieur Dubois, who was a
judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, the father was appeased.
He even showed some anxiety as to how she was faring, 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 mantlepiece 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. His
little 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. It was settled that it should be a grand
affair, and the wedding dinner was to be held at Sainte-Adresse, at Mother
Gusa'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
loudly dressed, wore rings and a very dressy hat. She looked undeniably
pretty and nice. She threw her arms round her father's neck before he
could say a word, then fell into her sisters' arms with many tears, and
then asked for a plate, so that she might share the family soup. Old
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 intended 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.