"Once again assure yourself, my worthy woman, and have no uneasiness," said the marquise, pressing in her small and delicate white hands the burning hand of Jeanne Duport; "and, if you prefer it, you shall leave the hospital this very day and be nursed at home; everything shall be done for you, so that you need not leave your children; and, if your lodging is unhealthy or too small, you shall have one found that is more convenient and suitable, so that you may be in one room and your children in another; you shall have a good nurse, who will watch them whilst she attends to you, and when you entirely recover, if you are out of work, I will take care that you are provided for until work comes, and I will also take care of your children for the future." "Ah, what do I hear?" said Jeanne Duport, all trembling and hardly daring to look her benefactress in the face. "Why are so many kindnesses showered on me? It is not possible! I leave the hospital, where I have wept and suffered so much, and not leave my children again! Have a nurse! Why, it is a miracle!" "It is no miracle, my good woman," said Clemence, much affected. "What I do for you," she added, blushing slightly at the remembrance of Rodolph, "is inspired by a generous spirit, who has taught me to sympathise with misfortune, and it is he whom you should thank." "Ah, madame, I shall ever bless you!" said Jeanne, weeping. "Well, then, you see, Jeanne," said Lorraine, much affected, "there are also amongst the rich Rigolettes and Goualeuses with good hearts." Madame d'Harville turned with much surprise towards Lorraine when she heard her mention the two names. "Do you know La Goualeuse and a young workwoman called Rigolette?" she inquired of Lorraine. "Yes, madame; La Goualeuse--good little angel!--did for me last year, according to her small means, what you are going to do for Jeanne. Yes, madame, and it does me good to say and repeat it to everybody, La Goualeuse took me from a cellar in which I had been brought to bed on the straw, and--dear, good girl!--placed me and my child in a room where there was a good bed and a cradle; La Goualeuse spent the money from pure charity, for she scarcely knew me, and was poor herself. But how good it was! Was it not, madame?" said Lorraine. "Yes, yes; charity from the poor to the poor is great and holy!" said Clemence, with her eyes moistened by soft tears. "It was the same with Mademoiselle Rigolette, who, according to her little means as a sempstress," said Lorraine, "some days ago offered her kind services to Jeanne." "How singular!" said Clemence to herself, more and more affected, for each of these two names, Goualeuse and Rigolette, reminded her of a noble action of Rodolph. "And you, my child, what can I do for you?" she said to Lorraine; "I could wish that the names you pronounce with so much gratitude should also bring you good fortune."