“Oh! a very good fellow.”

“But stop,” resumed Rodin, appearing to recollect himself; “ain’t he a man about thirty-six or forty, fat, with a ruddy complexion?”

“Ruddy as a glass of red wine,” said Rose-Pompon, “and with a pimpled nose like a mulberry.”

“That’s the man—­M.  Dumoulin.  Oh! in that case, I am quite satisfied, my dear child.  The jest no longer makes me uneasy; for M. Dumoulin is a very worthy man—­only perhaps a little too fond of his joke.”

“Then, sir, you will try to be useful to Jacques?  The stupid pleasantry of Ninny Moulin will not prevent you?”

“I hope not.”

“But I must not tell Ninny Moulin that you know it was he who sent me to call you M. Rodin—­eh, sir?”

“Why not?  In every case, my dear child, it is always better to speak frankly the truth.”

“But, sir, Ninny Moulin so strongly recommended me not to name him to you—­”

“If you have named him, it is from a very good motive; why not avow it?  However, my dear child, this concerns you, not me.  Do as you think best.”

“And may I tell Cephyse of your good intentions towards Jacques?”

“The truth, my dear child, always the truth.  One need never hesitate to say what is.”

“Poor Cephyse! how happy she will be!” cried Rose-Pompon, cheerfully; “and the news will come just in time.”

“Only you must not exaggerate; I do not promise positively to get this good fellow out of prison; I say, that I will do what I can.  But what I promise positively is—­for, since the imprisonment of poor Jacques, your friend must be very much straitened—­”

“Alas, sir!”

“What I promise positively is some little assistance which your friend will receive to-day, to enable her to live honestly; and if she behaves well—­hereafter—­why, hereafter, we shall see.”

“Oh, sir! you do not know how welcome will be your assistance to poor Cephyse!  One might fancy you were her actual good angel.  Faith! you may call yourself Rodin, or Charlemagne; all I know is, that you are a nice, sweet—­”

“Come, come, do not exaggerate,” said Rodin; “say a good sort of old fellow; nothing more, my dear child.  But see how things fall out, sometimes!  Who could have told me, when I heard you knock at my door—­which, I must say, vexed me a great deal—­that it was a pretty little neighbor of mine, who under the pretext of playing off a joke, was to put me in the way of doing a good action?  Go and comfort your friend; this evening she will receive some assistance; and let us have hope and confidence.  Thanks be, there are still some good people in the world!”

“Oh, sir! you prove it yourself.”

“Not at all!  The happiness of the old is to see the young happy.”