he lover
was backed up in his suit by the guardian of Constance, Monsieur
Claude-Joseph Pillerault, at that time an ironmonger on the Quai de la
Ferraille, whom the young man had finally discovered by devoting himself
to the subterraneous spying which distinguishes a genuine love.

The rapidity of this narrative compels us to pass over in silence the
joys of Parisian love tasted with innocence, the prodigalities peculiar
to clerkdom, such as melons in their earliest prime, choice dinners
at Venua's followed by the theatre, Sunday jaunts to the country in
hackney-coaches. Without being handsome, there was nothing in Cesar's
person which made it difficult to love him. The life of Paris and
his sojourn in a dark shop had dulled the brightness of his peasant
complexion. His abundant black hair, his solid neck and shoulders
like those of a Norman horse, his sturdy limbs, his honest and
straightforward manner, all contributed to predispose others in his
favor. The uncle Pillerault, whose duty it was to watch over the
happiness of his brother's daughter, made inquiries which resulted in
his sanctioning the wishes of the young Tourangian. In the year 1800,
and in the pretty month of May, Mademoiselle Pillerault consented to
marry Cesar Birotteau, who fainted with joy at the moment when, under a
linden at Sceaux, Constance-Barbe-Josephine Pillerault accepted him as
her husband.

"My little girl," said Monsieur Pillerault, "you have won a good
husband. He has a warm heart and honorable feelings; he is true as gold,
and as good as an infant Jesus,--in fact, a king of men."

Constance frankly abdicated the more brilliant destiny to which, like
all shop-girls, she may at times have aspired. She wished to be an
honest woman, a good mother of a family, and looked at life according to
the religious programme of the middle classes. Such a career suited her
own ideas far better than the dangerous vanities which seduce so many
youthful Parisian imaginations. Constance, with her narrow intelligence,
was a type of the petty bourgeoisie whose labors are not performed
without grumbling; who begin by refusing what they desire, and end
by getting angry when taken at their word; whose restless activity is
carried into the kitchen and into the counting-room, into the gravest
matters of business, and into the invisible darns of the household
linen; who love while scolding, who conceive no ideas but the simplest
(the small change of the mind); w