"Oh, yes! that is very easy, monsieur. Come in."
From that moment Isaure saw in the stranger only an unfortunate, and the pleasure that she felt in doing good speedily dissipated her terror. Still, while the stranger entered and seated himself in the living room, Isaure, as she went to and fro to fetch what she had to offer him, kept Vaillant constantly by her side; and her voice, as she spoke a few affectionate words to her faithful guardian from time to time, seemed to urge him to watch over her more heedfully than ever.
The stranger threw himself upon a chair, put aside his hat and his stick, and examined with interest the interior of the cottage. When the girl returned to the living room, he scrutinized her again, and the more he looked at her the more amazement his eyes seemed to express.
Isaure, having placed the food upon a table which she moved to her guest’s side, said to him pleasantly:
"There, monsieur, is all that I have to offer you, but I do it gladly."
"There is much more than I need, and it is a most sumptuous repast, compared with those which I have had for some time past," said the stranger, seating himself at the table. "But I warn you, my child, that I shall not be able to pay you for what I consume in your house."
"Pay me, monsieur! Oh! I am not in the habit of asking pay for such trifling services as I can render. Is not one too fortunate to be able to be of use sometimes to one’s fellow creatures?"
"That is a most beautiful reflection, my child!" said the stranger ironically; "but I doubt whether your fellow creatures would do so much for you, if the opportunity should offer! You are still young; it will be well for you to learn thus early never to rely upon the gratitude of those whom you have obliged."
"I do not need their gratitude to take pleasure in doing good; my reward is in my heart." As she said this, Isaure raised her blue eyes with a touching expression of sincerity, and her whole face seemed lovelier than ever. The stranger gazed at her constantly while he ate.
"Young woman," said he, "it was not among your goats and your dull-witted mountaineers that you learned to express yourself thus."