Georget came very soon to inquire for the invalid's health. On learning that the girl he loved was Monsieur de Roncherolle's daughter, the poor boy was struck dumb; he feared at once that that discovery would interpose obstacles to his union with Violette; but Roncherolle, reading his thought in his eyes, held out his hand to him and said:
"My friend, I have no right to cherish prejudices; besides, I have allowed my daughter to sell flowers, so I may consistently allow her to marry an ex-messenger.—You love each other, my children, and I shall never oppose your happiness."
Chicotin appeared at that moment, and when he was told of all that had happened, he danced about the room, and attempted to make the furniture dance. To keep him quiet, they were obliged to remind him that he was in a sick room, whereupon he went out and skipped upon the boulevard.
Georget informed his patron of all that had happened at Roncherolle's room, and of the blessings which the father and the daughter had showered upon him; the count smiled as he said:
"Yes, I believe after all that one is happier in avenging himself as I have done."
Six days passed, during which Roncherolle was better and worse alternately. On the seventh day, he woke with a violent fever; his wound pained him terribly, and it seemed from his general prostration and the faintness of his voice, that his strength was leaving him. But, still trying to conceal his suffering, especially from his daughter's eyes, he called her to his bedside about mid-day, and said, trying to smile:
"My dear love, do you want to make me very happy?"
"Tell me what I must do, father?"
"You must go to the Comte de Brévanne—for that is the real name of Georget's patron—and tell him yourself how grateful I am to him for giving me back my daughter, although I had inflicted such injury upon him. You must assure him again of my repentance, and beg him to repeat that he forgives me."
"But I should rather not leave you to-day, father; you seem very much depressed, and you are in greater pain."