"Come, Georget, let us go."
Georget considered that he had had very little time to talk to Violette; but he dared not make any remark, and took his leave with the count, after exchanging a loving pressure of the hand with his sweetheart.
The next morning, about nine o'clock, Violette was in her neighbor's room once more; he was feeling a little better, and was telling her about a strange dream he had had, when Chicotin arrived, bringing with him a letter, which he handed to Roncherolle.
"For you, bourgeois; it just came, so your concierge told me."
"Who can have written me? I don't know this writing," said Roncherolle, as he broke the seal. But in an instant, he uttered a cry of surprise.
"My children, you could never guess what this letter contains; listen.
"'Monsieur:
"'One of your debtors, Monsieur de Juvigny, has instructed me to send you a thousand francs on account of what he owes you.'
"Signed—the devil take me if I can read it—Dubois or Dubosc.—But the thousand-franc note is inside all right; here it is!"
"Ah! what good luck, monsieur! how happy it makes me for you!" said Violette.