“Then will you have a little affection for me?” “Haven’t I already? do you doubt it? Yes, I have affection for you, because I know that you are not a ne’er-do-well, a good-for-nothing, like so many others of your age, and because you are so fond of your mother, whose only support you are. Ah! how lucky you are to have your mother, Georget, and to be able to work for her! If I only knew mine, I would take such pleasure in giving her the fruit of my work, in kissing her and coddling her and taking every care of her! Oh, yes! I would have loved my mother dearly! but I never had one, or rather she is dead; or else--she deserted me!” “There, now it is you who are sad! don’t think about all that any more, mamzelle; they say that children without parents, and without a name, are the ones who always make their fortune.” “Why! that is easily understood, because then the good Lord takes the place of their family, He never loses sight of them, and gives them good inspirations; and with a protector like Him, they can never fail to make their way.--But you must go, Georget!” “Yes, mamzelle. Ah! I am happy this morning! my heart is full of joy; I have talked with you, and I shall have a good day.” “Good! now you are in good spirits, and that is the way I love to see you, the way I would like you to be always, because--Well, it is changing already! your brow is clouded and you turn pale;--what is the matter, Georget? Don’t you feel well?” The young messenger had, in fact, changed color, and his smiling face, his eyes beaming with happiness, had suddenly assumed a different expression. A single glance in the distance had sufficed to cause this revolution: Georget had caught sight of Monsieur Jéricourt, the handsome man who was in love with the flower girl, walking very slowly in front of the Château d’Eau, not like a person who was going elsewhere, but like one who had come there with a purpose. Violette followed the direction of Georget’s eyes, and speedily discovered the cause of his change of countenance; thereupon she shrugged her shoulders impatiently and cried: “Mon Dieu! is it going to begin again?--You are going to do your errand, I hope, Georget?” “Yes, mamzelle, yes, I’m going, I’m going right away; for if I didn’t, I might do more foolish things. Here comes that perfumed dandy who makes love to you--here he comes again; it seems that he means to come every day now; it’s a regular thing!” “That gentleman is perfectly free to walk on the boulevard; what makes you think it’s on my account?” “What makes me think so? why, it’s plain enough; you know as well as I do that it’s on your account. Oh! what a pity that the boulevard’s free to everybody!--I’m going, mamzelle, I’m going!” Georget made up his mind to go, at last; he passed Jéricourt, upon whom he bestowed a savage glance; but that gentleman did not notice him.