ed to him a work of supererogation. While his mistress
was out he rarely uttered a sound; but when he heard her footstep in
the short passage outside, he gave vent to his feelings and hailed her
return with boisterous shouts and unearthly whistling of old French
military tunes. Even the noise he made did not disturb Angela; she
hardly heard him, for her nerves were not overwrought, but deadened
almost to insensibility.

Madame Bernard consulted a young doctor, a man of talent, who was
taking lessons of her for the sake of his practice among foreigners.
She used to say that between her pupils, and their friends and
relations, she could get the best advice on any matter without paying
a penny for it. The young physician answered that he could not help
her much without seeing the patient, but that the best thing for
Angela would be to eat and sleep well and not to fret.

Some such idea had probably occurred to the little Frenchwoman, for
she laughed gaily in the doctor's face, and he, not being paid to look
serious, joined in her laughter.

'You cannot say it is bad advice,' he said, 'and you wanted me to say
something. Let me see the young lady, and I will tell you honestly
whether I know of anything that will do her good, as I would tell a
colleague.'

They agreed that he should call one evening on pretence of taking an
extra lesson in a leisure hour; he came at the appointed time, and
watched Angela narrowly during the short time she remained in the
room. When she was gone, he gave his opinion without hesitation.

'The best thing for her would be a good illness,' he said. 'You look
surprised! I will try to explain. That young lady is stronger than you
think. It would do her a world of good to shed tears, but she cannot
because her unconscious power of resistance has been exercised till it
has grown rigid. You have heard of Hindu devotees who hold up one arm
till it stiffens in that position, so that they could not move it if
they tried. That is an image of what I mean, unless it is the thing
itself. After learning the terrible news Donna Angela unconsciously
steeled herself against her natural impulse to break down. She has a
strong will, and the result is what you see. The strain of resisting
was so great that it deadened her to all sensation in a few hours. If
she could fall ill, the tension would relax; in my opinion it will do
so when her physical strength is worn out by starvation and lack of
sleep, but a sim