ken place during the small hours of Wednesday
morning; it was now Saturday, and the child was quite well again.
Doctor Bodin, whose fears concerning her had prompted him to make an
early call, spoke of Doctor Deberle with the respect that an old
doctor with a meagre income pays to another in the same district, who
is young, rich, and already possessed of a reputation. He did not
forget to add, however, with an artful smile, that the fortune had
been bequeathed by the elder Deberle, a man whom all Passy held in
veneration. The son had only been put to the trouble of inheriting
fifteen hundred thousand francs, together with a splendid practice.
"He is, though, a very smart fellow," Doctor Bodin hastened to add,
"and I shall be honored by having a consultation with him about the
precious health of my little friend Jeanne!"

About three o'clock Helene made her way downstairs with her daughter,
and had to take but a few steps along the Rue Vineuse before ringing
at the next-door house. Both mother and daughter still wore deep
mourning. A servant, in dress-coat and white tie, opened the door.
Helene easily recognized the large entrance-hall, with its Oriental
hangings; on each side of it, however, there were now flower-stands,
brilliant with a profusion of blossoms. The servant having admitted
them to a small drawing-room, the hangings and furniture of which were
of a mignonette hue, stood awaiting their pleasure, and Helene gave
her name--Madame Grandjean.

Thereupon the footman pushed open the door of a drawing-room,
furnished in yellow and black, of dazzling effect, and, moving aside,
announced:

"Madame Grandjean!"

Helene, standing on the threshold, started back. She had just noticed
at the other end of the room a young woman seated near the fireplace
on a narrow couch which was completely covered by her ample skirts.
Facing her sat an elderly person, who had retained her bonnet and
shawl, and was evidently paying a visit.

"I beg pardon," exclaimed Helene. "I wished to see Doctor Deberle."

She had made the child enter the room before her, and now took her by
the hand again. She was both astonished and embarrassed in meeting
this young lady. Why had she not asked for the doctor? She well knew
he was married.

Madame Deberle was just finishing some story, in a quick and rather
shrill voice.

"Oh! it's marvellous, marvellous! She dies with wonderful realism. She
clutches at her bosom like this, throws back her