A few weeks after Roncherolle's death, of which the count informed Monsieur de Merval, the latter met Madame de Grangeville on the street, and she eagerly accosted him.
"At last I meet you, my sincere, my generous friend, and I am able to express my gratitude for what you are doing for me. No more mystery, my dear Merval, I know all; I recognized your handwriting; indeed, what other than yourself would have acted so delicately toward me? But I assure you that as to the little flower girl, you are mistaken, you are entirely wrong; it was simply some resemblance of feature which led you to think that."
Monsieur de Merval listened without interrupting, and when she had finished, he said to her in a very grave tone:
"Madame, it is time that you should be disabused concerning the error under which you are laboring. I am not entitled to your thanks, the money which you receive from an unknown hand is not sent to you by me, I tell you again; but I have a shrewd suspicion from whom it does come."
"Who is it, pray? For heaven's sake, give me the name of that generous friend."
Madame de Grangeville made a slight grimace and shut her lips together in annoyance, muttering:
"My husband! what an idea! how on earth could he have learned that I was in straitened circumstances?"
"It was I who told him, madame, after I had the honor to pay you a visit; I did not think that I did wrong in informing Monsieur de Brévanne that your situation was not--was not prosperous."
"I did not give you that commission, monsieur.--But in that case--the flower girl----"
"Really, monsieur, I utterly failed to understand the romance that that girl told me. Someone has believed, or imagined, things which are utterly absurd."
"It seems, madame, that Monsieur de Roncherolle understood better than you did, for he did not fail to acknowledge that young flower girl as his daughter."
"His daughter! Monsieur de Roncherolle acknowledged her as his daughter?"
"He is dead, madame, and he died asking forgiveness of the friend whom he had so deeply injured."
"Ah! poor Roncherolle! So he is dead! Well, after all, he was wise, for he was in a pitiable plight. And--and--the little flower girl?"
"She is living with the Comte de Brévanne, madame. He has adopted her, and _he_ will never abandon her! Ah! there are few men like the count, and you should be very proud, madame, that you once bore his name!"