The Flower Girl of The Chateau d'Eau Volume Ii Part 40

"After all, Mamzelle Violette, you mustn't feel so bad for somebody who ain't anything to you."

"Oh! he is so wretched, without relations, or friends, sick and poor; and then there are people for whom you feel affection right away; and Georget won't be jealous of him; I feel that I have a sincere affection for him."

"I am going to see if Mirontaine is cured, and if Madame Lamort can go up."

Violette had been at her stand for some time, when Monsieur de Brevanne came there and inquired about her neighbor. The girl gave him an exact description of his plight; she concealed nothing from him, neither his suffering, nor the privations which he was obliged to undergo, nor the pride which made him refuse any a.s.sistance in the form of money.

"He has no fire now," said Violette, her eyes wet with tear; "and he isn't willing that we should make him one before evening, because I go to sit with him in the evening, poor man! and he did not have the money to buy something that might perhaps have cured him.--Ah! he is very unfortunate!"

The count listened attentively to the girl's story; Roncherolle's position touched him more than he chose to show. He stood for some time buried in thought, then he said to Violette:

"I would like to judge for myself of this gentleman's plight, of his situation, but I should not want him to see me."

"That is very easy, monsieur; in the first place, Monsieur de Roncherolle never leaves his bed, and a person can stand in the outer room and look into the other without his seeing him; in the second place, he often sleeps, and I am always careful not to wake him."

"Well, I will go this evening, I will go to see you, with Georget."

"Oh! how kind it is of you, monsieur! I am very sure that you will have compa.s.sion on my poor neighbor."

"On your account--it is possible.--But not a word concerning me, my child!"

"Oh! I am dumb, monsieur; but I am very glad that you are coming to see my neighbor."

About eight o'clock in the evening, Violette was installed in Roncherolle's room; he had been dozing for some time, and when he woke, his eyes met those of the young girl, who, as she mended her neighbor's linen, glanced at him often to see if he were asleep.

"Really, my dear child," said Roncherolle, "your kindness to me fills me with grat.i.tude, and reconciles me to your s.e.x; for, if I must admit it, I had but a very slight esteem for women."

"Why so, monsieur? have they injured you?"

"Not exactly; but they are responsible for my having injured others, and that amounts to the same thing."

"Why no, monsieur, if they didn't advise you to do it."

"They do not need to advise us to make fools of ourselves; they lead us into it easily enough without that."

"I don't understand, monsieur."

"So much the better for you, my child.--But what are you doing there?

G.o.d forgive me, I believe that you are patching my rags!"

"Well! I had nothing to do, and I like to be busy; I thought that it wouldn't offend you if I should take a few st.i.tches in your linen."

"Offend me! ah! my dear girl, you are too kind to me; one does not take offence with those who are so kind to them. Ah me! when I think----"

Here Roncherolle paused and heaved a profound sigh. Violette looked up at him and said:

"What are you thinking about, monsieur, that makes you sigh so? You mustn't think of melancholy things when you are sick."

"I am thinking, my dear child, that I might have with me--my own daughter,--who, however, I am sure, would take no better care of me than you do."

"Your daughter! what, monsieur, you have a daughter, and she is not with you when you are ill and suffering!"

"If she is not with me, it is not her fault,--it is mine."

"Ah! then it is you who have sent her away, and she is not in Paris, of course?"

"No, she is not in Paris."

"Why don't you write for her to come, to join you?"

"I don't want to disturb her."

"How old is your daughter?"

"Nineteen."

"Why, that is just my age!"

"Ah! you are nineteen? And what about your parents? I never see them with you. But I remember now, that you told me that you had lost them."

"I never knew my parents, monsieur; I am an abandoned child!"

"Abandoned! is it possible? what a strange coincidence!--Were you abandoned in Paris?"

Violette, remembering the count's injunction, replied hesitatingly:

"Why--I don't know, monsieur; I--I think so."

"Poor child, what a pity! her parents do not realize what a treasure they cast away."

Roncherolle buried his face in his pillow, murmuring:

"But my child--I do not know her; perhaps she too is lovely and good!

ah! if I could only find her! But no! why should I wish to? to force her to share my dest.i.tution?--No, it is better as it is."

The invalid dropped asleep. Violette was anxiously awaiting that moment, for she had heard noises in the outer room for several moments, and she guessed who it might be. As soon as she was certain that Roncherolle was asleep, she arose and softly opened the door of the other room, where she found Monsieur de Brevanne and Georget.

"My neighbor is asleep; you may come in, monsieur," said Violette to the count.

"You are quite sure that he is asleep, my child?"

"Yes, monsieur. You can tell by listening to him, his breathing is so difficult. Poor man! it seems that he has suffered terribly all day, and he is taking advantage of a little respite from pain, to rest."

"But you were talking just now."

"Yes, monsieur.--Oh! if you knew--he has a daughter, the poor man, and he said that he bitterly regretted not having her with him."

"Oho! he spoke to you of his daughter, did he?"