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notice that she had not seen Jean Valjean.
‘In what way did you go thither?’ Jean Valjean asked
her.’
‘On foot.’
‘And how did you return?’
‘In a hackney carriage.’
For some time, Jean Valjean had noticed the economical
life led by the young people. He was troubled by it. Marius’
economy was severe, and that word had its absolute mean-
ing for Jean Valjean. He hazarded a query:
‘Why do you not have a carriage of your own? A pretty
coupe would only cost you five hundred francs a month.
You are rich.’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Cosette.
‘It is like Toussaint,’ resumed Jean Valjean. ‘She is gone.
You have not replaced her. Why?’
‘Nicolette suffices.’
‘But you ought to have a maid.’
‘Have I not Marius?’
‘You ought to have a house of your own, your own ser-
vants, a carriage, a box at the theatre. There is nothing too
fine for you. Why not profit by your riches? Wealth adds to
happiness.’
Cosette made no reply.
Jean Valjean’s visits were not abridged. Far from it. When
it is the heart which is slipping, one does not halt on the
downward slope.
When Jean Valjean wished to prolong his visit and to
induce forgetfulness of the hour, he sang the praises of