The cab stopped in front of a handsome, furnished lodging house. It was where Monsieur Gerval stopped when he was in Paris. He was well known in the house, and everyone treated him with the regard which his years and his character deserved.
He caused Adeline and her daughter to alight and took them to his hostess.
“Look you, madame,” he said, “here is a stranger whom I beg you to take care of until further orders.”
“Ah! mon Dieu! how pretty she is! But what a melancholy expression! what an air of depression!—Can’t she speak, Monsieur Gerval?”
“She is ill; she has undergone some great misfortune; they say even that her mind——”
“Merciful heaven! what a pity!”
“I hope that with the best care, we shall succeed in calming her excitement. I commend this unfortunate woman and her child to you.”
“Never fear, Monsieur Gerval, she shall have everything she needs.—Another unfortunate of whom you have taken charge, I see.”
“What would you have, my dear hostess; a man must needs make himself useful when he can. I have no children, and I am growing old; what good would all my wealth do me, if I did not assist the unfortunate? Moreover, it is a source of enjoyment to myself. I am like Florian’s man: ‘I often do good for the pleasure of it.’”
“Ah! if all the rich men thought as you do, Monsieur Gerval!”