“Well?” asked she.

“Her condition is very serious,” he answered; “but you must not fear; rely on me; I will give you every assistance.  I shall come back at ten o’clock.”

When Helene returned to the bedroom she found Jeanne sitting up in bed, gazing round her with bewildered looks.

“You left me! you left me!” she wailed.  “Oh!  I’m afraid; I don’t want to be left all alone.”

To console her, her mother kissed her, but she still gazed round the room: 

“Where is he?” she faltered.  “Oh! tell him not to go away; I want him to be here, I want him—­”

“He will come back, my darling!” interrupted Helene, whose tears were mingling with Jeanne’s own.  “He will not leave us, I promise you.  He loves us too well.  Now, be good and lie down.  I’ll stay here till he comes back.”

“Really? really?” murmured the child, as she slowly fell back into deep slumber.

Terrible days now began, three weeks full of awful agony.  The fever did not quit its victim for an hour.  Jeanne only seemed tranquil when the doctor was present; she put one of her little hands in his, while her mother held the other.  She seemed to find safety in their presence; she gave each of them an equal share of her tyrannical worship, as though she well knew beneath what passionate kindness she was sheltering herself.  Her nervous temperament, so exquisite in its sensibility, the keener since her illness, inspired her, no doubt, with the thought that only a miraculous effort of their love could save her.  As the hours slipped away she would gaze on them with grave and searching looks as they sat on each side of her crib.  Her glances remained instinct with human passion, and though she spoke not she told them all she desired by the warm pressure of her hands, with which she besought them not to leave her, giving them to understand what peace was hers when they were present.  Whenever the doctor entered after having been away her joy became supreme, and her eyes, which never quitted the door, flashed with light; and then she would fall quietly asleep, all her fears fleeing as she heard her mother and him moving around her and speaking in whispers.

On the day after the attack Doctor Bodin called.  But Jeanne suddenly turned away her head and refused to allow him to examine her.

“I don’t want him, mamma,” she murmured, “I don’t want him!  I beg of you.”

As he made his appearance on the following day, Helene was forced to inform him of the child’s dislike, and thus it came about that the venerable doctor made no further effort to enter the sick-room.  Still, he climbed the stairs every other day to inquire how Jeanne was getting on, and sometimes chatted with his brother professional, Doctor Deberle, who paid him all the deference due to an elder.