"Oh! then I will do what you say, father; I hear Chicotin now, and I will tell him not to leave you until I return."
The girl hastily put on what she needed to go out, then embraced her father. Roncherolle held her to his heart for a long time. She started toward the door, but he called her back, that he might kiss her once more; he strove to smile at her, and followed her with his eyes until she had left the room; then he let his head fall back on the pillow, saying:
"Dear love! I think that I have done well to send her away."
On leaving the house Violette met Georget, who was coming to inquire for her father, and who proposed to accompany his sweetheart to his patron"s house. But the girl begged him to let her go alone, and to go up to her father; she was afraid that Chicotin might make a mistake about giving him what he asked for. Georget complied with Violette"s request, and instead of accompanying her, he went up to Monsieur de Roncherolle.
When Violette arrived at Monsieur de Brevanne"s, he was at home, but engaged with contractors, architects and men who were working upon some property of his in Paris; the girl waited until he was at liberty, for she was unwilling to return to her father without complying with his wishes and seeing the count. At last he was alone, and Violette was able to express to him all her grat.i.tude for what she owed him, and to deliver her father"s message.
Monsieur de Brevanne listened attentively to what Roncherolle had instructed his daughter to say to him. He took Violette"s hands in his, and said to her:
"Yes, my dear love, I have forgiven your father, and he must know that I never speak except from the dictates of my heart."
"I will repeat your very words to him, monsieur," said Violette, "and I hope that it will do him good; for I saw plainly enough to-day that he was suffering more, although he tried to hide it from me; but this morning, when he looked at his wound, the doctor did not seem at all satisfied."
"I thought that his wound was a slight one?"
"So it was, monsieur, but a constant fever has prevented it from healing."
"If that is so, I will go with you, my child; I will take you back to your father, and see for myself how he is. Perhaps he should have another doctor."
"Oh! you are so kind, monsieur, and I am so grateful to you! Would you be willing to see my father, and to tell him what you have just told me?
I have an idea that that would cure him at once."
The count at once led Violette away, saying:
"Come, my child; let us first find out how he is."
It was but a short distance from the count"s house to Roncherolle"s lodgings. Violette and Monsieur de Brevanne soon arrived. The concierge was not in her lodge, and Mirontaine received them, barking in most lugubrious fashion.
"That is strange!" murmured Violette; "this dog knows me perfectly well, so why does she make that noise? why does she howl like that? Mon Dieu!
they say that that announces some calamity!"
And the girl ran rapidly up the stairs, while the count tried to rea.s.sure her. But when they reached the fifth floor, they saw Georget and Chicotin standing outside Roncherolle"s door. Violette would have pa.s.sed into the room, but Georget put his arms about her and detained her, and she saw that his eyes were filled with tears.
"O my G.o.d! my father is dead!" cried the girl.
Georget and his friend sadly hung their heads; thereupon Violette fell into Monsieur de Brevanne"s arms, faltering:
"Oh! I have lost my father, monsieur! and it was so short a time since Heaven gave him back to me!"
"Courage, my poor child," said the count; "hereafter I will take his place!"
XLV
CONCLUSION
After Roncherolle"s death, Monsieur de Brevanne took Violette into his family and treated her as his daughter. He provided different masters for both Violette and Georget, who completed their education.
Study, Georget"s love, and the count"s affection, gradually changed Violette"s grief into a melancholy souvenir. Sometimes she said to Monsieur de Brevanne:
"So you don"t want me to sell flowers any more, monsieur?"
"No, my child," the count said with a smile. "You shall have flowers, you shall raise them, and pick as many as you please; but you no longer need to sell them, for I am wealthy, and when your mourning is at an end, I propose to marry you to Georget and share my fortune with you."
A few weeks after Roncherolle"s death, of which the count informed Monsieur de Merval, the latter met Madame de Grangeville on the street, and she eagerly accosted him.
"At last I meet you, my sincere, my generous friend, and I am able to express my grat.i.tude for what you are doing for me. No more mystery, my dear Merval, I know all; I recognized your handwriting; indeed, what other than yourself would have acted so delicately toward me? But I a.s.sure you that as to the little flower girl, you are mistaken, you are entirely wrong; it was simply some resemblance of feature which led you to think that."
Monsieur de Merval listened without interrupting, and when she had finished, he said to her in a very grave tone:
"Madame, it is time that you should be disabused concerning the error under which you are laboring. I am not ent.i.tled to your thanks, the money which you receive from an unknown hand is not sent to you by me, I tell you again; but I have a shrewd suspicion from whom it does come."
"Who is it, pray? For heaven"s sake, give me the name of that generous friend."
"The Comte de Brevanne, madame."
Madame de Grangeville made a slight grimace and shut her lips together in annoyance, muttering:
"My husband! what an idea! how on earth could he have learned that I was in straitened circ.u.mstances?"
"It was I who told him, madame, after I had the honor to pay you a visit; I did not think that I did wrong in informing Monsieur de Brevanne that your situation was not--was not prosperous."
"I did not give you that commission, monsieur.--But in that case--the flower girl----"
"It was he who sent her also, madame."
"Really, monsieur, I utterly failed to understand the romance that that girl told me. Someone has believed, or imagined, things which are utterly absurd."
"It seems, madame, that Monsieur de Roncherolle understood better than you did, for he did not fail to acknowledge that young flower girl as his daughter."
"His daughter! Monsieur de Roncherolle acknowledged her as his daughter?"
"Yes, madame, before he died."
"What! Roncherolle is dead?"
"He is dead, madame, and he died asking forgiveness of the friend whom he had so deeply injured."
"Ah! poor Roncherolle! So he is dead! Well, after all, he was wise, for he was in a pitiable plight. And--and--the little flower girl?"
"She is living with the Comte de Brevanne, madame. He has adopted her, and _he_ will never abandon her! Ah! there are few men like the count, and you should be very proud, madame, that you once bore his name!"
Madame de Grangeville could not repress a gesture of annoyance; but she restrained herself, bowed coldly to Monsieur de Merval and hurriedly left him.