in your
happiness. You see I speak without any reserve; you know I never could
disguise my thoughts."

"Well, I can but thank you for caring enough about me even to wish to
dispose of me in marriage to one of your acquaintances."

"This was the state of things when your troubles came upon you, and you
sent me that poor, dear letter in which you acquainted me with what you
styled your fault, but which, to an ignorant mind like my own, seemed a
noble and generous action. That letter directed me to go and fetch away
your papers, among which I found the confession of your love for me,--a
love you had never ventured to reveal; and there, too," continued
Rigolette, unable longer to restrain her tears, "I learned that, kindly
considering my future prospects (illness or want of employ might render
so distressing), you wished, in the event of your dying a violent death
(as your fears foretold might be the case), to secure to me the trifle
you had accumulated by industry and care."

"I did; and surely if, during my lifetime, you had been overtaken by
sickness or any other misfortune, you would sooner have accepted
assistance from me than from any other living creature, would you not? I
flattered myself so, at least. Tell me, tell--I was right, that to me
you would have turned for succour and support as to any true and devoted
friend?"

"Of course I should! Who else should I have thought of in any hour of
need or sorrow but you, M. Germain?"

"Thanks, thanks! Your words fall like healing drops upon my heart, and
console me for all I have suffered."

"But how shall I attempt to describe to you what I felt while reading
that--oh, it is a dreadful word to utter!--that will, each word of which
breathed only care and solicitude for my future welfare? And yet these
tender, touching proofs of your sincere regard were to have been
concealed from me till your death. Surely it was not strange that
conduct so generous and delicate should at once have converted my
feelings towards you into those of an affection sincere and fervent as
your own for me. That is easily understood, is it not, M. Germain?"

The large dark eyes of Rigolette were fixed on Germain with an
expression so earnest and tender, her sweet voice pronounced the simple
confession of her love in a tone so touchingly true to nature, that
Germain, who had never for one instant flattered himself with having
awakened so warm an interest in the heart of the grisette, gazed on