"What are you thinking about, monsieur, that makes you sigh so? You mustn't think of melancholy things when you are sick." "I am thinking, my dear child, that I might have with me--my own daughter,--who, however, I am sure, would take no better care of me than you do." "Your daughter! what, monsieur, you have a daughter, and she is not with you when you are ill and suffering!" "If she is not with me, it is not her fault,--it is mine." "Ah! then it is you who have sent her away, and she is not in Paris, of course?" "No, she is not in Paris." "Why don't you write for her to come, to join you?" "I don't want to disturb her." "How old is your daughter?" "Nineteen." "Why, that is just my age!" "Ah! you are nineteen? And what about your parents? I never see them with you. But I remember now, that you told me that you had lost them." "I never knew my parents, monsieur; I am an abandoned child!" "Abandoned! is it possible? what a strange coincidence!--Were you abandoned in Paris?" Violette, remembering the count's injunction, replied hesitatingly: "Why--I don't know, monsieur; I--I think so." "Poor child, what a pity! her parents do not realize what a treasure they cast away." Roncherolle buried his face in his pillow, murmuring: "But my child--I do not know her; perhaps she too is lovely and good! ah! if I could only find her! But no! why should I wish to? to force her to share my destitution?--No, it is better as it is." The invalid dropped asleep. Violette was anxiously awaiting that moment, for she had heard noises in the outer room for several moments, and she guessed who it might be. As soon as she was certain that Roncherolle was asleep, she arose and softly opened the door of the other room, where she found Monsieur de Brevanne and Georget. "My neighbor is asleep; you may come in, monsieur," said Violette to the count. "You are quite sure that he is asleep, my child?" "Yes, monsieur. You can tell by listening to him, his breathing is so difficult. Poor man! it seems that he has suffered terribly all day, and he is taking advantage of a little respite from pain, to rest." "But you were talking just now." "Yes, monsieur.--Oh! if you knew--he has a daughter, the poor man, and he said that he bitterly regretted not having her with him." "Oho! he spoke to you of his daughter, did he?" "Yes, monsieur; can you imagine that she does not come to take care of him, her father, when he is sick?" "Did he tell you why she was not with him?" "No, monsieur; he simply said that it was his fault.--But come in, monsieur; he is sound asleep." "Yes, I will come in. Stay here, my child, and talk with Georget; but don't talk too loud." "No, there's no danger of that, monsieur," said Georget; "we understand each other perfectly well simply by looking at each other."