"For my part, Louise, I feel quite sure that one of these days I shall see you happily married to a good and worthy partner, who will pity you for your past troubles, and love and esteem you for the patience with which you endured them."
"Ah, Madame Germain, you only say so to try and comfort me; but whether you really believe what you say or no, I gratefully feel and thank you for your kindness. But who are these? I declare, M. and Madame Pipelet! How very gay he looks; so different from the sad, dejected appearance he always wore, while M. Cabrion was tormenting him as he did!"
Louise was right. Pipelet advanced in high spirits, and as though treading on air; on his head he wore the well-known bell-crowned hat, a superb grass-green coat adorned his person, while a white cravat, with embroidered ends, was folded around his throat, in such a manner as to permit the display of an enormous collar, reaching nearly up to his eyes, and quite concealing his cheeks. A large, loose waistcoat, of bright buff, with broad maroon-coloured stripes, black trousers, somewhat short for the wearer, snowy white stockings, and highly polished shoes completed his equipment.
Anastasie displayed a robe of violet-coloured merino, tastefully contrasted with a dark blue shawl. She proudly exhibited her freshly curled Brutus wig to the gaze of all she met, while her cap was slung on her arm by its bright green strings, after the manner of a reticule.
The physiognomy of Alfred—ordinarily so grave, thoughtful, and dejected—was now mirthful, jocund, and hilarious. The moment he caught a glimpse of Rigolette and Louise, he ran towards them, exclaiming in his deep, sonorous voice, "Delivered! Gone!"
"How unusually joyful you seem, M. Pipelet," said Rigolette. "Do pray tell us what has occasioned such a change in your appearance!"
"Gone! I tell you, mademoiselle,—or, rather, madame, as I may, do, and ought to say, now that, like my Anastasie, you are tied up for life."
"You are very polite, M. Pipelet; but please to tell me who has gone?"
"Cabrion!" responded M. Pipelet, inspiring and respiring the air with a look of indescribable delight, as though relieved of an enormous weight; "he has quitted France for ever—for a perpetuity! At length he has departed, and I am myself again."
"Are you quite sure he has gone?"