“Why, you are really very comfortable here,” said he, after scattering these greetings with a cackle of loud laughter that hardly moved the rubicund muscles of his broad face. He looked at his daughter with some contempt. “My dear Celestine, I will make you a present of all my furniture out of the Rue des Saussayes; it will just do here. Your drawing-room wants furnishing up.--Ha! there is that little rogue Wenceslas. Well, and are we very good children, I wonder? You must have pretty manners, you know.” “To make up for those who have none,” said Lisbeth. “That sarcasm, my dear Lisbeth, has lost its sting. I am going, my dear children, to put an end to the false position in which I have so long been placed; I have come, like a good father, to announce my approaching marriage without any circumlocution.” “You have a perfect right to marry,” said Victorin. “And for my part, I give you back the promise you made me when you gave me the hand of my dear Celestine--” “What promise?” said Crevel. “Not to marry,” replied the lawyer. “You will do me the justice to allow that I did not ask you to pledge yourself, that you gave your word quite voluntarily and in spite of my desire, for I pointed out to you at the time that you were unwise to bind yourself.” “Yes, I do remember, my dear fellow,” said Crevel, ashamed of himself. “But, on my honor, if you will but live with Madame Crevel, my children, you will find no reason to repent.--Your good feeling touches me, Victorin, and you will find that generosity to me is not unrewarded.--Come, by the Poker! welcome your stepmother and come to the wedding.” “But you have not told us the lady’s name, papa,” said Celestine. “Why, it is an open secret,” replied Crevel. “Do not let us play at guess who can! Lisbeth must have told you.” “My dear Monsieur Crevel,” replied Lisbeth, “there are certain names we never utter here--” “Well, then, it is Madame Marneffe.” “Monsieur Crevel,” said the lawyer very sternly, “neither my wife nor I can be present at that marriage; not out of interest, for I spoke in all sincerity just now. Yes, I am most happy to think that you may find happiness in this union; but I act on considerations of honor and good feeling which you must understand, and which I cannot speak of here, as they reopen wounds still ready to bleed----” The Baroness telegraphed a signal to Hortense, who tucked her little one under her arm, saying, “Come Wenceslas, and have your bath!--Good-bye, Monsieur Crevel.” The Baroness also bowed to Crevel without a word; and Crevel could not help smiling at the child’s astonishment when threatened with this impromptu tubbing.