doctor came to me; perhaps he had been
before, but I had no memory of it. He gave
me medicine, which I took without inquiry,
and another night passed in a calmer sleep.
When I woke again, I felt better. There
was daylight in the room. I stretched my
hand out to draw aside the curtain of my bed,
when, to my astonishment, I saw upon my
finger the ring which I had sold to the jeweller.
I pulled it off, and examined it. There was
no doubt of its identity. I tried to recall the
events of the last two days. Was this, then,
only a part of the terrible dreams which had
oppressed me ? No. I remembered too well
the days of my poverty and hunger; the long
struggle with myself, and the final yielding;
the shop on the Boulevard where I had sold
my ring, and the Restaurant where I broke
my fast. I thrust my hand under my pillow,
and drew forth my money, the surest proof
that I was not deceived. However, I pushed
aside my curtains, to assure myself that I was
at home, in my own bedroom, when, to my
surprise, there was my next room neighbour
sitting near my window, busily working upon
a little cap. The table was drawn up to her
side, and upon it was some lace and ribbon.
She plied her needle briskly for awhile, without
observing me, and then held the cap out
at arms' length, and eyed it like a connoisseur.
Then she worked a minute or two longer, and
again she held it out, when, suddenly holding
it sideways, she saw me looking at her.

"Does Monsieur want anything?" she asked.

"Yes," said I, " I wish to know the name
of my unknown friend, who has restored to
me a ring, given to me by my mother dying,
and which I would have guarded as my life,
but that I was compelled to sell it for bread,
two days ago. I cannot guess what being has
done this. I have no friend in Paris, and I
have not spoken of this to a soul. But I
entreat you, if you know, not to conceal
the name, that I may bless it to my latest
hour."

"By-and-by, Monsieur shall know all; but
at present—— "

"Nay," I interrupted, " I entreat you to
tell me; but why should I doubt? It can
be no other than yourself; and yet, I cannot
tell why you should interest yourself thus
for a stranger and a foreigner."

"But would not Monsieur have done an
equal kindness for a stranger ?— There," she
exclaimed, suddenly checking herself, "the
secret which I meant to keep is told. Mons.
Gallart, the curé, always said I was a silly
thing."

"But why wish to conceal so good an
action?"

" I do not know, except that I should have
liked to wait till you were rich enough to
repay me. Now you will tease yourself about
the money, though I am sure I do not want
it. I never should have had it, but for Mons.
Gallart, the curé; for, you see, I never thought
of saving money. I used to buy every week
a new cap, and now and then a new dress,
till, one day, Mons. Gallart overtook me in
the meadow coming from mass; for I had
loitered by the way. And he spoke to me
about youth, and how soon it was flown, and
asked me if I had ever considered that, one
day, I should be no longer young and strong.
And I said I had; but it seemed that so
many long years must pass away before
that time came. He told me that he himself
thought like me once, but that now his hair
had grown grey; he looked back, and saw
how quickly a man glides from youth to age.
' Besides,' he said, ' you may be taken ill, and
you have not a friend in the world, excepting
me; and I am poor. Would it not be well
to try and save a little money ? Indeed,' he
said, ' I would not ask you to forego one
pleasure, if I did not think it might spare you
some future pain.' And so he talked to me
in this way as we walked, arm in arm, along
the footpath through the fields, till we came
to the road to Neuilly; and then he blessed
me, and bid me good-bye, and returned across
the fields. And all the way home I thought
upon his words, and resolved to buy fewer
caps and dresses; and now that is a year ago,
and I had saved a hundred francs, and next
Sunday I would have taken them to mass
with me, and waited for him again in the
churchyard, and have shown him how I
minded what he said, and have asked him
what to do with all my money."

"And you give up this pleasure for my
sake?"

"Nay, Monsieur—to what better use could
he tell me to employ it? I am not grown old
yet. I am not ill—I had no use for it."

"God bless you," I exclaimed, " I hope soon
to repay you the money; though the debt of
gratitude I owe you I can never do away.
But how did you learn that I had sold this
ring, and where?"

"Oh, I partly guessed it, as you shall hear.
Madame Mallet came to my room door; and
said you were very ill; and asked me to come
and watch you while she fetched a doctor. I
came in and sat by the bedside till the doctor
came, and saw you were in a high fever, and
in great danger, and you ought not to be
left alone. So I offered to sit by you, for, you
see, I can work here as well as in my own
room; for I lose no time. Madame Mallet
offered also; and we agreed to attend upon
you by turns. And when I was left alone,
and you were asleep, and dreaming, I heard
you talking of a ring, and entreating some
one to keep it for you till you came again,
and bought it with a hundred times its value.
Then you sobbed, and spoke rapidly in a
language that I did not understand. Suddenly
I remembered meeting you at the jeweller's
door the day before; and I said to myself,
he has been compelled to sell a keepsake;
and this it is that preys upon his mind, and
makes him ill. And I thought of my money,
and blessed the good old curé, whose advice