Baron Hulot went quickly up to Lisbeth’s apartment, but the door was locked, and the usual inquiries through the door took up time enough to enable the two light-handed and cunning women to arrange the scene of an attack of indigestion with the accessories of tea.  Lisbeth was in such pain that Valerie was very much alarmed, and consequently hardly paid any heed to the Baron’s furious entrance.  Indisposition is one of the screens most often placed by women to ward off a quarrel.  Hulot peeped about, here and there, but could see no spot in Cousin Betty’s room where a Brazilian might lie hidden.

“Your indigestion does honor to my wife’s dinner, Lisbeth,” said he, scrutinizing her, for Lisbeth was perfectly well, trying to imitate the hiccough of spasmodic indigestion as she drank her tea.

“How lucky it is that dear Betty should be living under my roof!” said Madame Marneffe.  “But for me, the poor thing would have died.”

“You look as if you only half believed it,” added Lisbeth, turning to the Baron, “and that would be a shame——­”

“Why?” asked the Baron.  “Do you know the purpose of my visit?”

And he leered at the door of a dressing-closet from which the key had been withdrawn.

“Are you talking Greek?” said Madame Marneffe, with an appealing look of misprized tenderness and devotedness.

“But it is all through you, my dear cousin; yes, it is your doing that I am in such a state,” said Lisbeth vehemently.

This speech diverted the Baron’s attention; he looked at the old maid with the greatest astonishment.

“You know that I am devoted to you,” said Lisbeth.  “I am here, that says everything.  I am wearing out the last shreds of my strength in watching over your interests, since they are one with our dear Valerie’s.  Her house costs one-tenth of what any other does that is kept on the same scale.  But for me, Cousin, instead of two thousand francs a month, you would be obliged to spend three or four thousand.”

“I know all that,” replied the Baron out of patience; “you are our protectress in many ways,” he added, turning to Madame Marneffe and putting his arm round her neck.—­“Is not she, my pretty sweet?”

“On my honor,” exclaimed Valerie, “I believe you are gone mad!”

“Well, you cannot doubt my attachment,” said Lisbeth.  “But I am also very fond of my cousin Adeline, and I found her in tears.  She has not seen you for a month.  Now that is really too bad; you leave my poor Adeline without a sou.  Your daughter Hortense almost died of it when she was told that it is thanks to your brother that we had any dinner at all.  There was not even bread in your house this day.

“Adeline is heroically resolved to keep her sufferings to herself.  She said to me, ‘I will do as you have done!’ The speech went to my heart; and after dinner, as I thought of what my cousin had been in 1811, and of what she is in 1841—­thirty years after—­I had a violent indigestion.—­I fancied I should get over it; but when I got home, I thought I was dying—­”