learn that among your friends I was he whom you preferred."

"This was the situation of things when your troubles came. It was then that
I received the good and kind letter in which you informed me of what you
called your fault; fault! which I think--who am not a scholar--is a good
and praiseworthy action; it was then that you asked me to go for those
papers which informed me that you had always loved me, without daring to
tell me so. Those papers, in which I read"--and Rigolette could not
restrain her tears--"that, thinking of my future, which sickness, or the
want of work might render so painful, you left me, if you should die a
violent death, as you feared--you left me the little which you had
acquired: by force of industry and economy--"

"Yes; for if I were alive and you found yourself without work or sick, it
is to me, rather than any one else, that you would address yourself--is it
not so? I count on it! speak! speak! I am not mistaken, am I?"

"It is very plain; to whom would you have me apply?"

"Oh! hold; these are words which do good, which are a balm for many
sorrows!"

"I cannot express to you what I felt on reading--what a sad word--this
_will_, of which each line contained a 'souvenir' of me, or a thought
for my welfare; and yet I was not to know these proofs of your attachment
until you were no longer in existence. Bless me! what would you? after such
generous conduct one is astonished that love should come all at once! yet
it is very natural, is it not, M. Germain?"

The girl said these last words with such touching frankness, fixing her