tell you. When I say queer," added Rose-Pompon, with a deep
sigh, "it is quite the contrary--but no matter: I need not trouble you
with that. One thing is certain; you are getting better--and you and
Cephyse will not do such a thing again. She is said to be very weak. Can
I not see her yet, M. Agricola?

"No," said the smith, with embarrassment, for Mother Bunch kept her eyes
fixed upon him; "you must have patience."

"But I may see her to-day, Agricola?" exclaimed the hunchback.

"We will talk about that. Only be calm, I entreat."

"Agricola is right; you must be reasonable, my good dear," resumed Rose
Pompon; "we will wait patiently. I can wait too, for I have to talk
presently to this lady;" and Rose-Pompon glanced at Adrienne with the
expression of an angry cat. "Yes, yes; I can wait; for I long to tell
Cephyse also that she may reckon upon me." Here Rose-Pompon bridled up
very prettily, and thus continued, "Do not be uneasy! It is the least one
can do, when one is in a good position, to share the advantages with
one's friends, who are not so well off. It would be a fine thing to keep
one's happiness to one's self! to stuff it with straw, and put it under a
glass, and let no one touch it! When I talk of happiness, it's only to
make talk; it is true in one sense; but to another, you see, my good
dear--Bah! I am only seventeen--but no matter--I might go on talking till
tomorrow, and you would not be any the wiser. So let me kiss you once
more, and don't be down-hearted--nor Cephyse either, do you hear? for I
shall be close at hand."

And, stooping still lower, Rose-Pompon cordially embraced Mother Bunch.
It is impossible to express what Mdlle. de Cardoville felt during this
conversation, or rather during this monologue of the grisette on the
subject of the attempted suicide. The eccentric jargon of Mdlle. Rose
Pompon, her liberal facility in disposing of Philemon's bazaar, to the
owner of which (as she said) she was luckily not married--the goodness of
her heart, which revealed itself in her offers of service--her contrasts,
her impertinence, her drollery--all this was so new and inexplicable to
Mdlle. de Cardoville, that she remained for some time mute and motionless
with surprise. Such, then, was the creature to whom Djalma had sacrificed
her!

If Adrienne's first impression at sight of Rose-Pompon had been horribly
painful, reflection soon awakened doubts, which were to become shortly
ineffable hopes. Remembe