During the day, Roncherolle ascended the single flight of stairs which separated him from the flower girl. He found the door open, and entered the room of the sick girl, who was then alone, the concierge having just gone down because she had heard Mirontaine bark. Roncherolle approached the bed softly; Violette was not asleep and the return of health could already be read in her eyes. At nineteen, sickness often disappears as rapidly as it comes; it is simply the storm which disturbs the tranquillity of a beautiful day, but leaves no traces behind. When she saw in her room a gentleman whom she did not know, the girl opened her eyes in surprise and started to speak, but Roncherolle very soon reassured her, saying: "Mademoiselle, I am your neighbor from below--indeed, I could not very well be from above; excuse me for intruding upon you thus, but Chicotin asked me to come up yesterday to see you, because he was anxious about your condition; to-day he came to tell me that the draught I ordered had done marvels, that you were almost well. As I did not deem myself capable of executing so rapid a cure, I wished to satisfy myself with my own eyes as to whether he had told me the truth; but if I disturb you, if my presence annoys you, tell me so frankly, and I will go away at once." Roncherolle's courteous and amiable tone instantly banished the girl's embarrassment, and she replied with a smile: "Oh, no! it doesn't annoy me, monsieur. It was you who were kind enough to come up to see me yesterday; Chicotin told me, and I should have come to thank you--excuse me--pray take a chair." "Then it's understood that I don't disturb you? In that case, I will take a seat and talk with you a moment; shall I?" "Yes, monsieur, you are very kind." "Let us not stand on ceremony any longer, now that we know each other. All the necessary courtesies have been performed, and I am a neighbor come to chat with a neighbor; and when his neighbor has had chatting enough, she will show her neighbor the door." "Oh! monsieur----" "No, never fear, I shall know enough to show myself the door. First of all, I am glad to see that you are really much better; I will wager that two days hence you will not have a sign of your illness." "Oh! I hope not, monsieur; then I shall be able to go back to my flower stand." "Yes, but you must not be imprudent, and go out too soon. I am well aware that to keep one's room is not amusing, when one is all alone. Oh! I know all about that, I have had too much experience; but at my age reverie is melancholy, whereas at yours it should be rose-colored." "Not always, monsieur." "Have you no parents?" "No, monsieur, I have none." "Poor girl! and despair had taken possession of your pretty head, and you proposed to die?" "What! you know, monsieur?"