est, and
entered fully into the cheerful disposition of the grisette. He pictured
to himself this solitude, enlivened by the song of the birds and of
Rigolette herself. In summer, no doubt, she worked at the open window,
half veiled by a verdant curtain of sweet peas, roses, nasturtiums, and
blue and white convolvulus. In winter she warmed herself near her small
stove, by the soft light of her lamp.

Rodolph was thus reflecting, when, looking mechanically at the door, he
saw there a large bolt,--a bolt which would not have been out of place
on the door of a prison. This bolt made him reflect. It might have two
meanings, two very distinct uses: to close the door on the lover within;
to close the door on the lover without. Rodolph was aroused from his
reflections by Rigolette, who, turning her head, saw him, and, without
changing her attitude, said to him:

"What, neighbour, are you there?" Then the well-formed ankle instantly
disappeared beneath the ample skirt of the plum-coloured gown, and
Rigolette added, "Ah, Mr. Cunning!"

"I was here admiring in silence."

"Admiring what, neighbour?"

"This pretty little room; for, neighbour, you are lodged like a queen."

"Why, you must know that is my enjoyment. I never go out, and so I can
do no less than make my home comfortable."

"But really I never saw anything half so nice. What pretty curtains! and
the drawers as handsome as mahogany! You must have spent a great deal of
money here."

"Oh, don't mention it! I had, of my own, four hundred and twenty-five
francs when I left the prison, and almost all has been spent."

"When you left the prison!--you?"

"Yes, but it is a very long story. Of course, you do not suppose that I
was in prison for anything wrong?"

"Of course not; but how was it?"

"After the cholera, I was quite alone in the world. I was then, I think,
ten years of age."

"But who had taken care of you till then?"

"Ah, some excellent people! But they died of the cholera;" here
Rigolette's large eyes became moistened. "They had sold the little they
possessed to pay their small debts, and I remained without having any
one who would take care of me. Not knowing what to do, I went to the
guard-house, opposite to our house, and said to the sentinel: 'Sir, my
relations are dead, and I do not know where to go to; what must I do?'
Then the officer came, and he took me to the commissary, who put me in
prison as a vagabond, and I did not go out until I was