"I beg of you, Georget, do not look for that man any more; if you do, you will make me very unhappy. Do you think that I haven't had sorrow enough?"
"I am done, mamzelle; I will obey you. But you see, I am past eighteen now, I am no longer a child, and I don't propose that anyone shall say anything about you!"
A month passed, during which Violette went every week to take a bouquet to Madame de Grangeville, who was still persuaded that it was Monsieur de Merval to whom she owed that attention. When the young flower girl returned from Rue Fontaine-Saint-Georges, Monsieur de Brévanne inquired particularly what had taken place between her and Madame de Grangeville; he insisted that the young girl should repeat the most trivial words of their conversation. He did not understand how the baroness could fail to show more interest in Violette, more curiosity to know something about her; that indifference surprised him, for it seemed to him that a secret voice must have spoken to the baroness's heart, and led her to think that the girl was her child.
One morning, Monsieur de Brévanne betook himself to Boulevard du Château d'Eau, with the purpose of sending Violette to Madame de Grangeville again; but the flower girl was not in her place. Fearing that she might be sick, the count was about to return home, in order to send Georget to inquire for Violette, when, as he turned, he saw her approaching with her flowers.
"You thought that I was lazy, did you not, monsieur?" said Violette as she curtsied to the count, "but don't scold me, it isn't that."
"In the first place, my child, I never think anything bad of you; but I was afraid that you might not be feeling well."
"Oh, no! monsieur, it isn't I who am sick; it's a poor gentleman—if you only knew how he suffers! it makes one's heart ache!"
"Is it some one whom you know?"
"It is a neighbor of mine, a gentleman who lives in the same house, just below me, and who, when I was sick some time ago, was kind enough to come up to see me, to take an interest in me, and to order a medicine which cured me; and then he came sometimes to sit with me; so that it is quite natural now that I should try to be of some use to him, is it not, monsieur?"
"Certainly, and no one could blame you for it, my child."