epted the
position; and I thank God every day that I did so, for I feel a mother's
affection for this young girl, and she loves me as fondly as if she were
my own daughter." In support of her assertion, she drew a handkerchief
from her pocket, and succeeded in forcing a few tears to her eyes.
"Under these circumstances, doctor," she continued, "you cannot fail to
understand that the interests of my dearly beloved Marguerite bring me
to you. I was shut up in my own room when M. de Chalusse was brought
home, and I did not hear of his illness until after your departure.
Perhaps you might say that I ought to have waited until your next visit;
but I had not sufficient patience to do so. One cannot submit without
a struggle to the torture of suspense, when the future of a beloved
daughter is at stake. So here I am." She paused to take breath, and then
added, "I have come, monsieur, to ask you to tell me the exact truth
respecting the count's condition."

The doctor was expecting something very different, but nevertheless he
replied with all due gravity and self-possession. "It is my painful duty
to tell you, madame, that there is scarcely any hope, and that I expect
a fatal termination within twenty-four hours, unless the patient should
regain consciousness."

The housekeeper turned pale. "Then all is lost," she faltered, "all
is lost!" And unable to articulate another word she rose to her feet,
bowed, and abruptly left the room.

Before the grate, with his mouth half open, and his right arm extended
in an interrupted gesture, the doctor stood speechless and disconcerted.
It was only when the outer door closed with a bang that he seemed
restored to consciousness. And as he heard the noise he sprang forward
as if to recall his visitor. "Ah!" he exclaimed, with an oath, "the
miserable old woman was mocking me!" And urged on by a wild, irrational
impulse, he caught up his hat and darted out in pursuit. Madame Leon was
considerably in advance of him, and was walking very quickly; still, by
quickening his pace, he might have overtaken her. However, he did not
join her, for he scarcely knew what excuse to offer for such a strange
proceeding; he contented himself by cautiously following her at a little
distance. Suddenly she stopped short. It was in front of a tobacconist's
shop, where there was a post-office letter-box. The shop was closed, but
the box was there with its little slit for letters to be dropped into
it. Madame Leon