"No, it is much better that he shouldn't see me, for he would think that I came here after him, and he would be quite capable of running away from this house too." "If mamzelle will come this way, monsieur is ready to receive her," said the gardener, returning. Violette was greatly agitated, but she followed her guide toward the house. The count was in his study on the ground floor; all the curtains at the windows were drawn, night was coming on, and the room was dark and silent. "Here's the young woman," said the gardener, pushing Violette before him, as she did not dare go in, and saying in her ear: "Don't be afraid, he won't eat you!" "Who is it who wishes to see me?" said the count, who was seated at his desk. "Excuse me, monsieur, it is I." Violette had finally made up her mind to enter the room; she was then close to Monsieur de Brevanne's desk, and he, as he raised his eyes, was thunderstruck to see the young flower girl before him. "What! you? you here, in my house?" he cried, almost angrily. "Yes, monsieur, yes; you recognize me, do you not, monsieur?" "Recognize you? oh, yes; your features are too deeply engraven in my memory!--But once more, mademoiselle, why have you come here? Who sent you?" "Sent me? No one sent me, monsieur; I have come of my own accord. It is very bold on my part, no doubt, but when one does not know which way to turn, when one receives fresh insults every day, which one does not deserve--for I swear to you, monsieur, that I have no fault to reproach myself with, that I can walk with my head erect, that I can look my comrades in the face without blushing; and yet I am suspected, and more than that, people say that I am a good-for-nothing, and those who ought to defend me are the first to abandon me, to despise me. Oh! I am very unhappy, monsieur. Excuse me for coming to tell you this; I know that it doesn't interest you, and yet, if you would take up my defence, monsieur, I am very sure that people would believe you; and he--he who is here at your house, with his mother, if you should tell him that it's horrible to say unkind things about me--for what he believes he tells to others, to his friends, and yesterday Chicotin, who is a good fellow, although he loafs too much, Chicotin, who has always been friendly to me, why, even he insulted me, he treated me with contempt! Ah! that was too much; I felt that my courage was giving way; and to get back a little of it, I thought of you, monsieur, who like so much to do good; I said to myself that you would take pity on a poor girl without parents, without friends, without anybody on earth to help her; that you would defend her; and that is why I came, monsieur." Violette ceased to speak and waited for the count to answer her; but he seemed absorbed in his thoughts, his head had fallen upon his breast, and he said nothing. After a pause, the girl continued: