little pet of a Pamela? Up to ten days ago I used to come and cut out
your flowers for you, I used to make the stalks for the roses, and the
hearts for the violets; we used to talk together, we sometimes used to
go to the play, and have a good cry there--and I was "good Joseph,"
"my little Joseph"--a Joseph in fact of the right stuff to make your
husband. All of a sudden--Pshaw! I became of no account.

Pamela
Now you must really go away. Here you are neither in the street, nor
in your own house.

Joseph
Very well, I'll be off, mademoiselle--yes, I'll go away! I'll have a
talk in the porter's lodge with your mother; she does not ask anything
better than my entrance into the family, not she; she won't change her
mind!

Pamela
All right! Instead of entering her family, enter her lodge, the
porter's lodge, M. Joseph! Go and talk with my mother, go on!-- (Exit
Joseph.) Perhaps he'll keep their attention so that M. Adolph can get
up stairs without being seen. Adolph Durand! What a pretty name! There
is half a romance in it! And what a handsome young man! For the last
fifteen days he has absolutely persecuted me. I knew that I was rather
pretty; but I never believed I was all he called me. He must be an
artist, or a government official! Whatever he is, I can't help liking
him; he is so aristocratic! But what if his appearance were deceitful,
and there were anything wrong about him!--For the letter which he has
just sent me has an air of mystery about it-- (She draws a letter from
her bosom and reads it) "Expect me this evening. I wish to see you