"Nothing, monsieur, but I must go."

"Will you do me a favor, Denise?"

"Oh, yes! with pleasure, monsieur, if it's anything I can do."

"I have taken a liking to that child I met on the road yesterday. His pretty face, his little honest way, everything speaks in his favor."

"You mean Coco Calleux?"

"Yes."

"I'm fond of him, too, but the poor little fellow's had a hard time since he lost his mother. His grandmother's rough and cross, and his father's a drunkard, and they want that child, only six years old, to go to work so soon! Can you imagine such a thing? Why, he often has nothing but bread to eat, and he's lucky when he doesn't have a beating for his supper. So we in the village don't like that drunken pig of a Calleux, and if the cottage wasn't some distance from the village, Coco would be at our house more than he's at home, I tell you."

"Well, Denise, be good enough to keep an eye on the child and buy him whatever he needs--in short, take my place with him, will you?"

"Oh! with pleasure, monsieur!"

"Here, take this purse, and use the contents to the best advantage for my little protege. When that is gone, I'll give you more. I shall always approve whatever use you may make of it."

"Ah! you've got a kind heart, monsieur! How glad I am! But such a lot of money as this will last a long time."

"You will do me this favor, won't you?"

"Will I! Pardi! I should say so! Don't you think it's pleasant to be employed to do good? Who could refuse such a commission?--I say, monsieur, I must kiss you for this--do you want me to?"

"Do I want you to, Denise!"

Auguste already had his arms around the girl, and had deposited more than one kiss on the plump cheeks which she offered him with pleasure, when an exclamation and a burst of laughter reached their ears simultaneously. Dalville turned: Madame Destival and Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere stood behind him.

"Oh! this is too much!" cried Madame Destival, walking forward with a wrathful glance at Denise, while Athalie continued to laugh, albeit her laughter seemed slightly forced.

"Delicious!" she said. "What! even with milkmaids? I shall remember this! the picture was truly rural."

Denise was not disturbed, for she had no thought that she could be blamed; so she looked at the two ladies in amazement, trying to divine the cause of the merriment of the one and the anger that gleamed in the eyes of the other, and still holding in her hand the purse that the young man had given her.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Madame Destival, with a contemptuous glance at the young milkmaid.

"As you see, madame, I have brought cheese and milk as usual."

"I didn't order any cheeses of you; in fact, yours are bitter, and I don't want any more of them. As for your milk, you put water in it, and I propose to take mine of somebody else."

"Water in my milk!" cried Denise, whose eyes filled with tears when she heard her merchandise thus vilified. "You're the first person that ever said that, madame, I tell you! And I swear----"

"All right, mademoiselle, that's enough; I don't want you ever to set foot inside my doors again. I thought that you were a decent, virtuous girl; I don't like little hussies."

"Hussies! Mon Dieu! what have I done to madame?"

"We saw it all, mademoiselle. And that purse in your hand is proof enough."

"That purse, madame," said Auguste, walking to Denise's side, "is destined for a charitable purpose, to relieve an unfortunate person. But I see that an evil interpretation is always put upon everything.--Poor Denise! I am responsible for your being made wretched! And when, by chance, I attempt to do a good deed, they think that I am trying to seduce you.--Do you suppose, mesdames, that one wins the love of a milkmaid with money? Remember, please, that this is not Paris."

While Auguste was speaking, Denise became calm; she wiped her eyes with the corner of her ap.r.o.n, and recovered sufficient a.s.surance to say to Madame Destival:

"I ought not to cry at what you said to me, madame, for I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.--Adieu, monsieur; I'll take your money and try to carry out your kind intentions."

With that, Denise curtsied to the company, and, still choking back her sobs, returned to White Jean and left the business agent's house.

Madame Destival, conscious of some embarra.s.sment, returned to the garden. Athalie walked up to Auguste and said, with a laugh:

"You must admit, monsieur, that you kissed her at least six times in succession."

"I didn't count, madame."

"You seemed to like it."

"Very much, madame."

"Monsieur is frank, at all events."

"That is, perhaps, my one good quality."

"But why did you kiss her?"

"Is she not very pretty, madame?"

"Pretty! perhaps; as coa.r.s.e, rustic beauties go."

"No, no! on the contrary, her features are extremely delicate."

"But she's a milkmaid!"

"What difference do you see between a pretty country girl and a pretty city girl?"

"Why, an enormous difference, monsieur. What about education, good manners, and refinement--do you count all those as nothing? Would you go out in Paris, or even in the country, with a milkmaid on your arm?"

"No, madame, I admit that I should not be enough of a philosopher for that. But just put on Denise----"

"Who is Denise, pray?"

"This little milkmaid, madame."

"Oho! so monsieur knows her name?"

"Yes, madame."

"Well, monsieur, what do you propose to put on Mademoiselle Denise?"

"A pretty hat, a stylish dress, a handsome shawl----"