enge herself on me, you will comprehend the brutality of her
remark.

"'It is because I fear you might be as unexpectedly happy as
myself, madame, that I came here,' was my (perhaps imprudent)
reply. 'I wish to see my father.'

"'That's impossible, at this moment!' she replied, turning very
pale; 'the sight of you would cause a dangerous degree of
excitement.'

"'If my father is so seriously ill,' I observed, 'why was I not
informed of it?'

"'Such was M. d'Orbigny's will,' replied my stepmother.

"'I do not believe you, madame! and I shall go and assure myself
of the truth,' I said, and turned towards the door of my
chamber.

"'I tell you again that the unexpected sight of you may have a
most prejudicial effect on your father!' she cried, coming
before me so as to hinder my further progress; 'I will not allow
you to go into his room, until I have informed him of your
arrival with all the care and precaution which his situation
requires.'

"I was in a cruel perplexity, monseigneur. A sudden surprise
might really be dangerous to my father, but this woman,--usually
so calm, so self-possessed--seemed to me so overcome by my
presence, I had so many reasons to doubt the sincerity of her
solicitude for the health of him whom she had married from
cupidity; and then, too, the presence of Doctor Polidori, the
murderer of my mother, caused me altogether such extreme alarm
that, believing my father's life menaced, I did not hesitate
between the hope of saving him and the fear of causing him
severe emotion. 'I will see my father, and that instantly!' I
said to my stepmother. And although she tried to retain me by
the arm, I went out of the room. Completely losing her presence
of mind, this woman tried a second time, and almost by force, to
prevent me from quitting the chamber. This incredible resistance
increased my alarm, I disengaged myself from her grasp, and,
knowing my father's apartment, I ran thither with all speed, and
entered the room.

"Oh, monseigneur, during my life I never can forget that scene,
and the picture presented to my eyes. My father, scarcely to be
recognised, pale and meagre, with suffering depicted in every
feature, his head reclining on a pillow, was lying extended on a
large armchair. At the corner of the fireplace, standing close
to him, was Doctor Polidori, just abou