“The three years that have passed have wrought vast changes: instead of the milkmaid, a rather awkward village girl, I find in you a young woman full of charm. And I, whom you used to see so dandified and elegant—here am I arrayed like any poor devil who travels on foot without the means to pay for a lodging!”
“What difference does that make? Are you Coco’s benefactor any the less? or he who made love so ardently to the little milkmaid?”
“You will agree, Denise, that in this costume I don’t look very much like a benefactor or a seducer.”
“For my part, if you don’t like me this way, I will very soon go back to the woolen waist and the little cap.”
“You will always be lovely. However, I have no right—I must not forget——”
Auguste paused and Denise looked at him anxiously; but he seemed to make an effort to banish a painful memory and took his place at the table, saying:
“Let us not think of anything but the pleasure it affords me to be here! Denise, Coco, come beside me; one evening of happiness will help me to forget several months of suffering.”
They sat down at the table. Auguste was the object of the most zealous attentions on the part of the occupants of the cottage; the presence of a sovereign would not have made them so happy as that of the poor wayfarer.
When Auguste had recovered from the fatigue of his journeying, he took Coco on his knee, seated himself in front of Denise, and began his story:
“I determined to travel, hoping that travelling would ripen my wits; moreover, it was necessary that I should make an effort to put my talents to some use. I know how to paint, I am a good musician, but it was very hard for me to look for pupils in Paris, the scene of my days of splendor, where I could not take a step without meeting old acquaintances, who turned their heads to avoid bowing to me when they learned that I was ruined! So I started with Bertrand——”