And, with a multitude of bows and salutations from Madame Séraphin to the registrar, his clerk, and all the various members of the establishment then and there assembled, she descended the stairs with La Goualeuse, followed by an officer, to command the opening of the gates through which they had to pass. The last had just closed behind them, and the two females found themselves beneath the vast porch which looks out upon the street of the Faubourg St. Denis, when they nearly ran against a young female, who appeared hurrying towards the prison, as though full of anxiety to visit one of its inmates. It was Rigolette, as pretty and light-footed as ever, her charming face set off by a simple yet becoming cap, tastefully ornamented with cherry-coloured riband; while her dark brown hair was laid in bright glossy bands down each clear and finely rounded cheek. She was wrapped in a plaid shawl, over which fell a snowy muslin collar, secured by a small knot of riband. On her arm she carried a straw basket; while, thanks to her light, careful way of picking her steps, her thick-soled boots were scarcely soiled; and yet the poor girl had walked far that day.
"Rigolette!" exclaimed Fleur-de-Marie, as she recognised her old prison companion, and the sharer in her rural excursions.[7]
[7] The reader will, perhaps, recollect that in the recital made by La Goualeuse to Rodolph, at their first meeting at the ogress's, of the early events of her life, she spoke to him of Rigolette, who, a friendless child like herself, had been (with her) confined in a maison de detention until she had reached the age of sixteen.
"La Goualeuse!" returned the grisette, and with one accord the two girls threw themselves into each other's arms.
Nothing more touchingly beautiful could be imagined than the contrast between these two young creatures, both so lovely, though differing so entirely from one another in appearance: the one exquisitely fair, with large, melancholy blue eyes, and an outline of feature of faultless purity, the pale, pensive, intellectual cast of the whole countenance reminding the observer of one of those sweet designs of a village maid by Greuze,—the same clear delicacy of complexion, the same ineffable mixture of graceful pensiveness and candid innocence; the other a sparkling brunette, with round rosy cheek and bright black eyes, set off by a laughing, dimpled face and mirthful air,—the very impersonation of youthful gaiety and light-heartedness, the rare and touching specimen of happy poverty, of contented labour, and honest industry!
After the first burst of their affectionate greetings had passed away, the two girls regarded each other with close and tender scrutiny. The features of Rigolette were radiant with the joy she experienced at this unexpected meeting; Fleur-de-Marie, on the contrary, felt humbled and confused at the sight of her early friend, which recalled but too vividly to her mind the few days of peaceful calm she had known previous to her first degradation.
"Dear, dear Goualeuse!" exclaimed the grisette, fixing her bright eyes with intense delight on her companion. "To think of meeting you at last, after so long an absence!"
"It is, indeed, a delightful surprise!" replied Fleur-de-Marie. "It is so very long since we have seen each other."
"Ah, but now," said Rigolette, for the first time remarking the rustic habiliments of La Goualeuse, "I can account for seeing nothing of you during the last six months,—you live in the country, I see?"
"Yes," answered Fleur-de-Marie, casting down her eyes, "I have done so for some time past."