"And I am very glad that I have so well bestowed my benefits," said
Rudolph, continuing to read.
"Besides, with the aid of the money you have given him, M. Rudolph, Morel is now a dealer in precious stones; he gains something to bring up his family upon, and the means of teaching his children some trade. The good Louise will, I think, marry a worthy laborer, who loves and respects her, as he should, for she has been unfortunate, but not guilty, and the betrothed of Louise has heart enough to understand this."
"I was very certain," exclaimed Rudolph, addressing his daughter, "of finding in dear little Rigolette's letter arms against our enemy! You hear, it is the expression of the plain common sense of this honest and upright soul. She says of Louise, 'She has been unfortunate, but not guilty, and her betrothed has heart enough to understand this.'"
Fleur-de-Marie, more and more moved and saddened by the reading of this letter, trembled at the glance that her father fixed upon her, for a moment, as he emphasized the above last words.
The prince continued: "I will tell you also, my lord, that Jeanne Duport, through the generosity of the marchioness, has been able to be separated from her husband, that wicked man who ate her out of everything and beat her; she has taken her eldest daughter with her, and she keeps a little lace shop, where she sells what she and her children make; their trade prospers. There are nowhere such happy people, and thanks to whom! thanks to you, my lord, to the marchioness, who both know how to give so much, and to give to so good purpose.
"By the way, Germain will write to you as usual, my lord, at the end of the month, on the subject of the Bank for Laborers out of employment, and of gratuitous loans; the reimbursements are seldom behindhand, and we perceive already much good that this spreads in this quarter. Now, at least, poor families can get through the dull season for work without putting their linens and beds in pledge. Then when work returns, you should see with what spirit they put themselves to it; they are so proud that confidence is placed in their work and their probity! And, indeed, it is not only this you should see. Besides, how they bless you for having lent them the wherewithal. Yes, my lord, they bless you, you, for although you say you have done nothing in its institution but to nominate Germain for head cashier, and that it is an unknown who has done this good work, we like better to believe that it is to you we owe it; it is more natural. Besides, there is a famous trumpet to repeat on every occasion that it is you we should bless; this trumpet is Madame Pipelet, who repeats to every one that it is only her prince of tenants (excuse me, M. Rudolph, she always calls you so) who can have done this charitable work, and her Darling Alfred is of her opinion. As to him, he is so proud and so pleased with his office of bank porter, that he says that the employment of M. Cabrion would be nothing to him. To end your family of protégées, my lord, I will add that Germain has read in the papers that Martial, a planter in Algiers, has been spoken of with great praises for the courage he had shown in repulsing, at the head of his farmers, an attack of thievish Arabs, and that his wife, as intrepid as himself, had been slightly wounded in the side while she was discharging her gun like a real grenadier. From that time, they say in the papers, she has been called 'Mrs. Rifle.' Excuse this long letter, my lord, but I thought you would not be sorry to hear from us concerning those whose good Providence you have been. I write to you from the farm at Bouqueval, where we have been since spring with our good mother. Germain leaves every morning for his business, and returns at night. In the autumn we shall go back to live in Paris. How strange it is, M. Rudolph, I, who never loved the country, adore it now. I make it clear to myself: it is because Germain loves it so much. Speaking of the farm, M. Rudolph, you, who undoubtedly know where that good little Goualeuse is—if you have an opportunity, tell her how we always remember her as one of the sweetest and best beings in the world; and that I myself never think of our happiness without saying, since M. Rudolph was also the M. Rudolph of dear Fleur-de-Marie, through his care she must be as happy as we; and this makes my happiness yet more perfect. How I run on! What will you say to me, my lord? But oh! you are so good! And then, you see, it is your fault if I chatter as much and as joyously as Papa Cretu and Ramonette, who no longer dare to rival me in singing. Indeed, M. Rudolph, I can tell you, I put it into their mouths. You will not refuse us one request, will you, my lord? If you give a name to our dear little child, it seems to us it will bring her good fortune, it will be like a happy star for her; believe it, M. Rudolph, sometimes my good Germain and I almost congratulate ourselves for having known so much sorrow, because we feel doubly how happy our child will be not to know what is the misery through which we have passed. If I close by telling, M. Rudolph, that we endeavor to aid poor people here and there, according to our means, it is not to boast of ourselves, but that you may know we do not keep to ourselves alone all the happiness you have given us; beside, we always say to those we succor, 'It is not we that you must thank and bless, it is M. Rudolph, the best, most generous man that there is in the world; 'and they take you for a kind of saint, if nothing more. Adieu, my lord! believe me, when our little girl shall begin to spell, the first words she shall read will be your name, M. Rudolph, and afterward, those words you caused to be written upon my wedding gift:
"Labor, and wisdom—honor and happiness."
"With the help of these four words, our tenderness and our care, we hope, my lord, that our child will be always worthy to speak the name of him who has been our good Providence, and that of all the wretched ones he has known. Pardon, my lord, for finishing thus; I have such large tears in my eyes-they are good tears—excuse, if you please—it is not my fault—but I cannot see clearly, so that I write badly.
"I have the honor, my lord, to salute you with as much respect as gratitude, RIGOLETTE GERMAIN."
"P.S.—Oh! my lord, in reading over my letter, I perceive that I have very often written M. Rudolph. You will pardon me? I may hope so? You know well that under one name or another, we respect and bless you the same, my lord."