my last instructions. But you will not open that cupboard till I
am dead. You both know as well as I do that it is only a question of a
few hours. Well, my son, I do not regret; I have lived long enough to
know of your success. And you have both been a great comfort to me. My
heart was starved till I met you. You have taken the place of the
children I never had."

As he finished, there was a thundering knock at the door. Nello jumped
up, remembering. Had not the Princess Nada promised to send their own
physician?

"I forgot to tell you, _bon_ Papa. I told them I was in a hurry to get
back to you because you were so ill. The young Princess, a most
beautiful girl, inquired your name and address. I gave them. She
wished you to have the best medical advice. She is sending you their
doctor, Sir Charles Fowler. I am sure that is he. I will go down and
see."

In good health, Papa Peron, in spite of his kind heart and still
kinder actions, had a little spice of malice in him. He was not quite
exhausted, as his next words showed.

"I know him well by reputation." This remarkable old man knew of
everybody, so it seemed. "Rather pompous and very suave, a good
bedside manner, rather despised by his fellow practitioners. But he
has a large and very aristocratic connection: he panders to their
whims. But it was very sweet of the young Princess. Evidently she
does not take after her father, she inherits the sweetness of her
mother. Twenty Sir Charles Fowlers cannot keep me alive. But show him
up, out of deference to the Princess. He is as much a charlatan in his
profession as Bauquel is in his."

Nello went downstairs into the shabby sitting-room, where the
slatternly maid had just shown in the popular physician.

Sir Charles addressed the young musician in his most bland and
courteous accents. He must privately have been very annoyed to be sent
at this time of night to such an obscure patient, but he did not
betray his annoyance. The Princess Zouroff and her daughter were
demi-goddesses to him. Their whims were equivalent to a Royal command.

"Signor Corsini, I presume? The Princess has told me over the 'phone
of your great success to-night; I congratulate you. She has sent me
to see a friend of yours, who I understand is seriously ill. Of course
it is not very strict professional etiquette that I should intrude
myself without a request from his local doctor. But the Princess is
a little autocratic, and will be obeyed." He w