rsons, noted for the infamy of their former lives? Why does not
society exercise also a superintendence of moral charity?

But let us leave the lofty stilts of our utopianisms, and return to the
cause of Rigolette's first sorrow.

With the exception of Germain, a well-behaved, open-hearted young man,
the grisette's neighbours had all, at first, begun on terms of
familiarity, believing her offers of good neighbourship were little
flirtations; but these gentlemen had been compelled to admit, with as
much astonishment as annoyance, that they found in Rigolette an amiable
and mirthful companion for their Sunday excursions, a pleasant
neighbour, and a kind-hearted creature, but not a mistress. Their
surprise and their annoyance, at first very great, gradually gave way
before the frank and even temper of the grisette; and then, as she had
sagaciously said to Rodolph, her neighbours were proud on Sundays to
have on their arms a pretty girl, who was an honour to them in every way
(Rigolette was quite regardless of appearances), and who only cost them
the share of the moderate pleasures, whose value was doubled by her
presence and nice appearance. Besides, the dear girl was so easily
contented! In her days of penury she dined well and gaily off a morsel
of warm cake, which she nibbled with all the might of her little white
teeth; after which, she amused herself so much with a walk on the
boulevards or in the arcades.

If our readers feel but little sympathy with Rigolette, they will at
least confess that a person must be very absurd, or very cruel, to
refuse once a week these simple amusements to so delightful a creature,
who, besides having no right to be jealous, never prevented her
cavaliers from consoling themselves for her cruelty by flirtations with
other damsels.

Francois Germain alone never founded any vain hopes on the familiarity
of the young girl, but, either from instinct of heart or delicacy of
mind, he guessed from the first day how very agreeable the singular
companionship of Rigolette might be made.

What might be imagined happened, and Germain fell passionately in love
with his neighbour, without daring to say a word to her of his love.

Far from imitating his predecessors, who, convinced of the vanity of
their pursuit, had consoled themselves with other loves, without being
on that account the less on good terms with their neighbour, Germain had
most supremely enjoyed his intimacy with the young girl, pa