"There! I was sure of it!—Take notice, Madame Frédérique, that these benevolent gentlemen never protect any women that aren't good-looking. As for the ugly ones, I don't know how it happens, but they never unearth them. They can groan in corners as much as they choose, there's no danger that anyone will hunt them up.—Total result: I don't take any stock in your story, and I believe I shall do well to yield to Freluchon's entreaties and couple up with him.—You've seen his sponge shop on Rue du Petit-Carreau, haven't you, madame? Don't you think it's rather neat?"
"Very," replied Frédérique; "the counting-room especially struck me as remarkably elegant."
"Ah! how fine I'll look in it!—Adieu, Charles! You've been playing tricks on me, and I'm going to get married!"
Rosette departed, and I confess that I did not try to detain her; what she had said had stung me to the quick. As for Frédérique, I saw that in the bottom of her heart she shared the grisette's unjust suspicions. She stayed a moment longer with me, but said almost nothing; then she too left me, and when I pressed her hand it hardly responded to the pressure. So that is how we are believed when we tell the truth! If I had lied, I am very certain that they would not have been so incredulous.
XLII
A CONSOLATION
I did not recover at once from the sensations caused by the two visits I had received. I knew that my liaison with Rosette would not last long; and when a thing is bound to end a little sooner or a little later, one is prepared for it. Moreover, since my peregrinations among the aunts, I had not had the slightest confidence in Rosette.
But Frédérique! That she should look coldly on me because I had busied myself in behalf of a young woman who was in trouble surprised me, I admit. She was kind-hearted herself; why was she unwilling that other people should have that good quality?
I was tempted for a moment to go to her; but I reflected that it would be almost equivalent to asking her forgiveness for doing a kind action without her leave. I felt that I must retain my dignity. So much the worse for those who see evil everywhere and in everything!
All this reflection and hesitation detained me at home much later than usual, and the day was far advanced when I arrived at Rue Ménilmontant. Madame Potrelle was not in her lodge, which was deserted. I hastened upstairs; but my heart was oppressed by a melancholy presentiment: was the poor child worse?
When I reached Mignonne's room, I found there, besides the unhappy mother, the doctor, the concierge, and a neighbor.