and, after unheard-of exertions, I brought Paulette out of it at the
peril of my life.

That was two years ago: since then I had not seen the child again but at
long intervals, and I had almost forgotten her; but Paulette's memory was
that of a grateful heart, and she came at the beginning of the year to
offer me her wishes for my happiness. She brought me, besides, a
wallflower in full bloom; she herself had planted and reared it: it was
something that belonged wholly to herself; for it was by her care, her
perseverance, and her patience, that she had obtained it.

The wallflower had grown in a common pot; but Paulette, who is a bandbox-
maker, had put it into a case of varnished paper, ornamented with
arabesques. These might have been in better taste, but I did not feel
the attention and good-will the less.

This unexpected present, the little girl's modest blushes, the
compliments she stammered out, dispelled, as by a sunbeam, the kind of
mist which had gathered round my mind; my thoughts suddenly changed from
the leaden tints of evening to the brightest colors of dawn. I made
Paulette sit down, and questioned her with a light heart.

At first the little girl replied in monosyllables; but very soon the
tables were turned, and it was I who interrupted with short interjections
her long and confidential talk. The poor child leads a hard life. She
was left an orphan long since, with a brother and sister, and lives with
an old grandmother, who has "brought them up to poverty," as she always
calls it.

However, Paulette now helps her to make bandboxes, her little sister