"My name is Dorfeuil, monsieur; I am most anxious that you should know to whom you have restored life and honor." Auguste escaped from the old man's thanks and finally left that abode whither he had carried joy and repose. He went down the five flights in high spirits, and better pleased with himself than he had ever been. "There are two people whom I have rescued from despair," he said to himself; "and all I have to do is to imagine that Destival carried off another three thousand francs." Returning to his fifth floor apartment, Auguste went to bed and did not wake until the morning had far advanced. "It seems to me, lieutenant, that you slept rather well in your new lodgings?" said Bertrand as he entered Auguste's room. "I really believe that I never slept so well on the first floor." But the ex-corporal was amazed to see that his master did not once go to the window, and at the end of the day he expressed his surprise. "Don't you like our view any more, lieutenant?" "No, my friend, I have reflected, and I think that it's a risky thing to look into other people's rooms." "But I should say that you saw some very pretty little things, didn't you, lieutenant?" "I saw some very sad things, too. All things considered, I think that it's better not to pay any attention to what goes on in our neighbors' houses." Auguste had another reason for not going to his window; he did not want to be seen by the old man, who would have recognized him, and whom he did not propose to visit again. He knew that poor Dorfeuil's daughter was lovely; he distrusted his own weakness and preferred not to run the risk of spoiling his kindly action. XVIII THE GRISETTES AT THE VILLAGE.--THE EVENING PARTY AND THE GHOST "We won't go to see Monsieur Auguste again," Denise declared on her return to the village; and when her aunt asked her if the fine gentleman in Paris had given them a warm welcome, the girl could not keep back the tears as she murmured: "We waited at his house more than three hours, and he only spoke to us for a minute!" "What! he didn't thank you for your chickens, my dear child, or say anything about my cake?" "Oh! yes, aunt." "What more do you want, my child? In Paris, you see, people are always in such a hurry that they don't have time to talk; it ain't as it is with us." Denise did not tell her aunt that Monsieur Dalville did not so much as thank her for her present, for that would have made Mère Fourcy angry, and the girl still hoped that the young man would come to see them; he was so pleasant when he came to the village that she would soon forget his coolness in the city. "And what about that money?" asked Mère Fourcy; "what did he say about that, my child?" "Nothing, aunt--that is to say, we are to do what we please with it." "Then we must have the house rebuilt and the garden sowed; that will be Coco's own property." "Yes, aunt."