Monsieur Duval lent him some money; he has taken a shop, where he works
on his own account; and, as for me, I go to school."

"Yes," replied I, remarking for the first time the cross that decorated
his little coat; "and I see that you are head-boy!"

"Monsieur Charles helps me to learn, and so I am come to be the first in
the class."

"Are you now going to your lessons?"

"Yes, and he has given me some lilacs; for he has a garden where we play
together, and where my mother can always have flowers."

"Then it is the same as if it were partly your own."

"So it is! Ah! they are good neighbors indeed. But here I am; good-by,
sir."

He nodded to me with a smile, and disappeared.

I went on with my walk, still pensive, but with a feeling of relief.
If I had elsewhere witnessed the painful contrast between affluence
and want, here I had found the true union of riches and poverty. Hearty
good-will had smoothed down the more rugged inequalities on both sides,
and had opened a road of true neighborhood and fellowship between the
humble workshop and the stately mansion. Instead of hearkening to the
voice of interest, they had both listened to that of self-sacrifice,
and there was no place left for contempt or envy. Thus, instead of the
beggar in rags, that I had seen at the other door cursing the rich man,
I had found here the happy child of the laborer loaded with flowers and
blessing him! The problem, so difficult and so dangerous to examine into
with no regard but for the rights of it, I had just seen solved by love.

CHAPTER V. COMPENSATION

Sunday, May 27th

Capital cities have one thing peculiar to them: their days of rest seem
to be the signal for a general dispersion and flight. Like birds that
are just restored to liberty, the people come out of their stone cages,
and joyfully fly toward the country. It is who shall find a green
hillock for a seat, or the shade of a wood for a shelter; they gather
May flowers, they run about the fields; the town is forgotten until
the evening, when they return with sprigs of blooming hawthorn in their
hats, and their hearts gladdened by pleasant thoughts and recollections
of the past day; the next day they return again to their harness and to
work.

These rural adventures are most remarkable at Paris. When the fine
weather comes, clerks, shop keepers, and workingmen look forward
impatiently for the Sunday as the day for trying a few hours of this
pastoral life; they