This awkward, embarrassing delirium was interrupted by Josephine's
return. She now held another purse in her hand, and quietly poured the
rest of the coin into it. She then, with a blush, requested him to take
back the money.

At that he found his tongue. "No, no," he cried, and put up his hands in
supplication. "Ladies, do let me speak ONE word to you. Do not reject my
friendship. You are alone in the world; your father is dead; your mother
has but you to lean on. After all, I am your neighbor, and neighbors
should be friends. And I am your debtor; I owe you more than you could
ever owe me; for ever since I came into this neighborhood I have been
happy. No man was ever so happy as I, ever since one day I was
walking, and met for the first time an angel. I don't say it was you,
Mademoiselle Rose. It might be Mademoiselle Josephine."

"How pat he has got our names," said Rose, smiling.

"A look from that angel has made me so good, so happy. I used to
vegetate, but now I live. Live! I walk on wings, and tread on roses. Yet
you insist on declining a few miserable louis d'or from him who owes you
so much. Well, don't be angry; I'll take them back, and throw them into
the nearest pond, for they are really no use to me. But then you will
be generous in your turn. You will accept my devotion, my services.
You have no brother, you know; well, I have no sisters; let me be your
brother, and your servant forever."

At all this, delivered in as many little earnest pants as there were
sentences, the water stood in the fair eyes he was looking into so
piteously.