Violette, who instantly flushed crimson, exclaimed: "You must mean Georget, monsieur." "Yes, his name is Georget." "In that case, monsieur, you must be the gentleman of whom he has told me so much good: that Monsieur Malberg, who was so kind to him when his mother was ill, who gave him money, and----" "I am Monsieur Malberg," replied the count, hastening to put an end to the girl's eulogium; "but it's Georget, not I, of whom we are speaking; he came to Paris with me to-day, and he made an appointment with me at five o'clock, to return to Nogent, where my country house is. I am surprised at his lack of punctuality, and I thought that I might find him at this market. You have not seen him, mademoiselle?" "I beg pardon, monsieur, I did see him for a moment, but it was more than two hours ago. He was over there, opposite me; I don't know whether he had been there long, but when I looked at him, when he saw that I saw him, he instantly disappeared, and I haven't seen him since then." "And he didn't speak to you?" "Oh, no! he doesn't speak to me now, monsieur." As she said this, Violette's voice changed, she heaved a deep sigh, and her eyes filled with tears. The count was touched; as he listened to the girl, he did not tire of gazing at her with a close scrutiny which would have alarmed her if she had not been at that moment engrossed by the thought of Georget. "Is your mother still living, mademoiselle?" the count suddenly asked; and Violette, surprised by a question which had no connection with Georget, faltered: "No, monsieur, no, I have no mother.--Did Georget tell you that he knew me, monsieur?" "Yes, yes, he told me that.--Is it long since you lost her?" "Why, monsieur, it is several weeks now since I have seen him; so he is in the country with you, is he, monsieur?" "Georget? yes, he is with me. But I was talking about your mother; I was asking you if you lost her when you were young?" "My mother? why, I never knew her, monsieur; I am a poor girl, deserted by her parents; and I owe the position that I have to-day to a kind-hearted woman who sold flowers on this same spot." "Ah! I understand," replied the count, thinking that the girl had been brought up at the Foundling Hospital. "I beg your pardon, I am sorry that I asked you that question; I should be terribly distressed to cause you pain; I must seem very inquisitive to you, but your features remind me strongly of someone whom I once knew very well." "Oh! you haven't offended me, monsieur; I ask nothing better than to answer you; I was so anxious to know you, since I knew how kind you had been to Georget." "How old are you?" "I am eighteen and a half, monsieur; I shall be nineteen in three months, I believe." "That is strange!"