Volume II Part 9 (1/2)

”Why, latterly I have seen those poor Morels so unhappy, so very unhappy, that I said to myself: 'There is no sense in having these ugly pieces of money idling in a box, whilst poor people are peris.h.i.+ng of hunger beside you,' so I lent them to Morel. When I say lent, I mean I told him I only lent them, in order to spare his feelings, for I a.s.sure you I gave them freely.”

”Yes, neighbor, but as they are no longer in want, you surely will not refuse to allow them to repay you?”

”True, I shall not refuse it; it will be something toward the purchase of chimney-ornaments--my dream.”

”And then, again, you ought to think a little of the future.”

”The future?”

”Should you fall ill, for instance.”

And, at the bare idea, Miss Dimpleton burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, so loud, that a fat man, who was walking before her, carrying a dog under his arm, turned round quite angrily, believing himself to be the b.u.t.t. Miss Dimpleton, resuming her composure, made a half-courtesy to the stout person, and pointing to the animal under his arm, said: ”Is your dog so very tired, sir?”

The fat man grumbled something, and continued to walk.

”Come, come, neighbor,” said Rudolph; ”are you losing your senses?”

”It is your fault if I am.”

”My fault?”

”Yes; because you say such silly things to me.”

”What, because I tell you that you may fall ill?”

”I ill?”

”Why not?”

”Am I a likely-looking person to be sick then?”

”Never have I beheld a face more rosy and fres.h.!.+”

”Very well then, why do you think I shall be ill?”

”Nay, but--”

”At eighteen years of age, leading the life I do, how can that be possible? I rise at five o'clock, winter and summer; I go to bed at ten or eleven; I eat to satisfy my hunger, which is not very great, it is true; I sing like a lark all day, and at night I sleep like a dormouse: I have a mind free, joyful, and contented, with the certainty of plenty of work, because my employers are pleased with what I have done. Why should I be sick! What an idea! Well, I never!”

And Miss Dimpleton again relapsed into long and hearty laughter.

Rudolph, struck with this blind, yet happy confidence in the future, reproached himself with having attempted to shake it. He thought, with horror, that an illness of a month could ruin this merry, peaceful mode of existence. Miss Dimpleton's deep faith in her health and her eighteen years, her only treasures, appeared to Rudolph something akin to holiness; for, on the young girl's part, it was neither carelessness nor improvidence, but an instinctive reliance on the commiseration of Divine justice, which could not abandon an industrious and virtuous creature, whose only error was a too confident dependence on the youth and health she enjoyed. The birds, as they cleave with gay and agile wings the azure skies in spring, or skim lightly over the blooming fields, do they think of the cheerless winter?

”Then,” said Rudolph to the grisette, ”you are not ambitious to possess more than you have?”

”Nothing.”

”Absolutely nothing?”

”No--that is to say, I should like to have my chimney-ornaments, and I shall have them, though I do not know when; but I have it in my head to possess them, and I will, if I should have to sit up to work all night to do it.”

”And besides these ornaments--”

”I want for nothing; I cannot recollect a single thing more that I care about possessing now.”