“I understand,” said Jacques, sitting down by the old woman. “We all have our troubles. That was what I came to talk about. Your business is doubtless much disturbed by these unsettled times.” “Disturbed; _mon Dieu_, it is broken up. One sells nothing but carrots and turnips now. The fruit and flowers that brought in a reasonable profit, are left to wither on our stalls. Working people have no money for them, and your court lords never come to _la Halle_ for their flowers.” “But they purchase them yet. There is no famine among the courtiers,” said Jacques, steadily pursuing the purpose of his visit. “But, as I said before,” answered the old woman, sharply. “They never come to _la Halle_, and one cannot be in two places at once. Our trade there is sure, if but little, for people must eat.” “Still, a great many flowers are sold. Every day I see pretty girls in the streets with loads, and people buy them.” “True, Monsieur Jacques, but Dame Doudel is no girl, and people no longer call her pretty.” “But if you had a daughter now.” Dame Doudel sighed. “Ah, yes, if I had, but she is dead.” “Still, a kind heart might supply the place.” “How! you talk folly, my friend.” “There is a young girl in this very house, fresh as a lily, and lovely enough to be your own daughter.” “Poor child but _she_ was so beautiful.” “I understand! This girl is beautiful too, and needs work _so_ much. Every one says Dame Doudel has a kind heart; so, when I saw this poor child and her mother pining from want, it was natural that I should come here.” “Yes, it was natural,” said the Dame, putting a strand of field grass in her mouth, and twisting the loose end around the bouquet she had arranged. “The child might make herself useful in arranging flowers, but most of all in selling them,” suggested the kind-hearted fellow. “Poor thing. Yes, she might. Well, my friend, send her here, and we shall see.” “Would it not be better, being as it were an old resident, if you went yourself to Madame Gosner; she might resent my intrusion, for suffering has not killed her pride.” “Yes, I will go, why not? It will not be the only time Dame Doudel has taken the first step in a kind act.” “The girl will have to learn; she may be awkward, at first, you understand. In the meantime they must eat. If it would not be a liberty, perhaps Dame Doudel would use this until the business began to pay. “This! But it is gold,” said the shrewd little woman, eyeing her neighbor suspiciously, “enough to keep two people with care half a month.” “In that time, your pretty protegée will have begun to earn something. I do not forget that until she does, money will be wanted, and who can use it with more discretion than Dame Doudel?” The market woman dropped the gold into her pocket. There was no doubting that man longer. “Well, my friend, it is arranged, and my work is done. To-morrow the little ope shall begin, if her mother consents.”