randville,
who took it and pressed it.

"I counted on the intervention of Monseigneur and on that of my friend
Monsieur Grossetete to obtain for me a favorable reception," said the
_procureur-general_. "It would have been a life-long regret to me if I
did not see you again."

"I thank those who brought you here," replied Veronique, looking at the
Comte de Grandville for the first time in fifteen years. "I have felt
averse to you for a very long time, but I now recognize the injustice of
my feelings; and you shall know why, if you can stay till the day after
to-morrow at Montegnac." Then turning to Horace Bianchon and bowing to
him, she added: "Monsieur will no doubt confirm my apprehensions. God
must have sent you, Monseigneur," she said, turning to the archbishop.
"In memory of our old friendship you will not refuse to assist me in my
last moments. By whose mercy is it that I have about me all the beings
who have loved and supported me in life?"

As she said the word _loved_ she turned with a gracious look to Monsieur
de Grandville, who was touched to tears by this mark of feeling. Silence
fell for a few moments on every one. The doctors wondered by what occult
power this woman could still keep her feet, suffering as she must have
suffered. The other three men were so shocked at the ravages disease had
suddenly made in her that they communicated their thoughts by their eyes
only.

"Allow me," she said, with her accustomed grace, "to leave you now with
these gentlemen; the matter is urgent."

She bowed to her guests, gave an arm to each of the doctors, and walked
toward the chateau feebly and slowly, with a difficulty which told only
too plainly of the coming catastrophe.

"Monsieur Bonnet," said the archbishop, looking at the rector, "you have
accomplished a miracle."

"Not I, but God, Monseigneur," he replied.

"They said she was dying," said Monsieur Grossetete, "but she is dead;
there is nothing left of her but spirit."

"A soul," said Gerard.

"And yet she is still the same," cried the _procureur-general_.

"A stoic after the manner of the Porch philosophers," said the tutor.

They walked in silence the whole length of the balustrade, looking at
the landscape still red with the declining light.

"To me who saw this scene thirteen years ago," said the archbishop,
pointing to the fertile plain, the valley, and the mountains of
Montegnac, "this miracle is as extraordinary as that we have just
witnesse