"That is true, I have always been lucky; but, speaking of M. Germain, where is he now?"
"Since he left this house, he has not been to see me."
"But where does he live, and what is he doing?"
"Why do you ask those questions, neighbor?"
"Because I feel jealous of him," said Rudolph, smiling, "and I would--"
"Jealous!" exclaimed Miss Dimpleton, laughing. "There is no reason for that, poor fellow!"
"Seriously, then, I have the greatest interest in knowing the address of M. Germain; you know where he lives, and I may, without boasting, add, that I am incapable of abusing the secret I ask of you; it will be for his interest also." "Seriously, neighbor, I believe you wish every good to M. Germain, but he made me promise not to give his address to any one; therefore, be assured, that as I do not give it to you, it is because I cannot. You ought not to be angry with me; if you had intrusted a secret to me, you would be pleased to find I acted as I am now doing."
"Stop, neighbor! Once for all, do not speak to me any more on that subject; I have made a promise, I intend to keep it, and, whatever you may say to me, I shall still answer you in the same way."
In spite of her giddiness and frivolity, the girl pronounced these last words so decisively, that Rudolph felt, to his great regret, that he would never obtain from her the desired information about Germain; and he felt a repugnance to employ artifice in surprising her confidence. He paused a moment, and then resumed: "Do not let us speak of it again, neighbor. Upon my soul, you keep so well the secrets of others, that I am no longer surprised at your keeping your own."
"Secrets! I have secrets! I wish I had some; it must be so very amusing."
"Do you mean to say that you have not a little secret of the heart?"
"In a word, have you never loved?" said Rudolph, looking steadfastly at Miss Dimpleton, to read the truth in her tell-tale face.
"Loved!--have I not loved M. Giraudeau, M. Cabrion, M. Germain, and you?"
"And did you love them the same as you love me--neither more nor less?"
"Oh, I cannot tell you that, exactly--less, perhaps; for I had to habituate myself to the squint of M. Giraudeau, to the red beard and disagreeable jests of M. Cabrion, and the melancholy of M. Germain, for he was so very sad, poor young man: while you, on the contrary, pleased me instantly."