; whilst it encircled in a wire-work of gold the
grisette's bird-cage. But, alas! in spite of the exciting splendour of
this sun-ray, the two canaries (male and female) flitted about uneasily,
and, contrary to their usual habit, did not sing a note. This was
because, contrary to her usual habit, Rigolette did not sing. The three
never warbled without one another; almost invariably the cheerful and
matin song of the latter called forth that of the birds, who, more lazy,
did not leave their nests as early as their mistress. Then there were
rivalries,--contentions of clear, sonorous, pearly, silvery notes, in
which the birds had not always the advantage.

Rigolette did not sing, because, for the first time in her life, she
experienced a sorrow. Up to this time, the sight of the misery of the
Morels had often affected her; but such sights are too familiar to the
poorer classes to cause them any very lasting melancholy. After having,
almost every day, succoured these unfortunates as far as was in her
power, sincerely wept with and for them, the young girl felt herself at
the same time moved and satisfied,--moved by their misfortunes, and
satisfied at having shown herself pitiful. But this was not a sorrow.
Rigolette's natural gaiety soon regained its empire; and then, without
egotism, but by a simple fact of comparison, she found herself so happy
in her little chamber, after leaving the horrible den of the Morels,
that her momentary sadness speedily disappeared.

This lightness of impression was so little affected by personal feeling,
that, by a mode of extremely delicate reasoning, the grisette considered
it almost a duty to aid those more unhappy than herself, that she might
thus unscrupulously enjoy an existence so very precarious and entirely
dependent on her labour, but which, compared with the fearful distress
of the lapidary's family, appeared to her almost luxurious.

"In order to sing without compunction, when we have near us persons so
much to be pitied," she said, naively, "we must have been as charitable
to them as possible."

Before we inform our reader the cause of Rigolette's first sorrow, we
are desirous to assure him, or her, completely as to the virtue of this
young girl. We are sorry to use the word virtue,--a serious, pompous,
solemn word, which almost always brings with it ideas of painful
sacrifice, of painful struggle against the passions, of austere
meditations on the final close of all things here