"I need not tell you," said Mrs. Seraphin, "how quiet our house is; a girl gains much by getting there, and this Louise must have been an incarnate imp to have turned out so bad, notwithstanding all the good and holy advice M. Ferrand gave her." "Certainly, so depend upon me; if I hear any one spoken of that I think will answer, I will send them to you." "There is one thing more," said Mrs. Seraphin; "M. Ferrand prefers that this servant should have no family, because, you comprehend, having no occasion to go out, she will run less risk; so, if by chance she could be found, monsieur would prefer an orphan, I suppose; in the first place, because it would be a good action, and then because, having no friends, she would have no pretext to go out. This miserable Louise is a good lesson for him, my poor Mrs. Pipelet! That's what makes him so hard to please in the choice of a domestic. Such a scandalous affair in a pious house like ours--how horrid! well, goodbye; to-night, when I go to see M. Bradamanti, I'll call upon Madame Burette." "Good-bye, Mrs. Seraphin--you will certainly see him to-night." Mrs. Seraphin took her departure. "Isn't she crazy after Bradamanti!" said Mrs. Pipelet. "What can she want with him? and wasn't he crazy for fear he should see her before he left for Normandy? I was afraid she wouldn't go, as M. Bradamanti expects the lady who came last night; I couldn't see her, but this time I'll try to unmask her. But who can this lady of M. Bradamanti's be? A lady or a common woman? I'd like to know, for I am as curious as a magpie. It is not my fault--I'm made so. It is my character. Ah, hold! an idea, a famous one too--to find out her name! I'll try it. But who comes there? Ah! it is my prince of lodgers. Hail, Mr. Rudolph," said Mrs. Pipelet, putting herself in the attitude of carrying arms, the back of her left hand to her wig. It was Rudolph, as yet ignorant of the death of M. d'Harville. "Good-day, Madame Pipelet," said he on entering. "Is Mile. Rigolette at home? I wish to speak to her." "The poor little puss is always at home at her work! Does she ever take a holiday?" "And how is Morel's wife? Does she cheer up any?" "Yes, Mr. Rudolph, many thanks to you, or to the protector of whom you are the agent, she and her children are so happy now! They are like fish _in_ water; they have fire, air, good beds, good food, a nurse to take care of them, without reckoning little Rigolette, who working like a little beaver, without appearing to, keeps them under her eye? and, besides, a negro doctor has been to see them. Mr. Rudolph, I said to myself, 'Ah! but this is the coalheaver doctor, this black man; he can feel their pulse without soiling his hands!' But never mind, color is skin deep; he seems to be a first-rate hand, all the same. He ordered a potion for Madame Morel, which relieved her at once." "Poor woman, she must be very sad."