her up again the moment she might feel poorly.  The porter opened the door by which the two houses communicated, and when they entered the garden they were hailed with exclamations of joy.  Madame Deberle, in particular, displayed a vast amount of affection for Jeanne; she ensconced her in a chair near the stove, and desired that the windows might be closed, for the air she declared was rather sharp for the dear child.  Malignon had now left.  As Helene began smoothing the child’s dishevelled hair, somewhat ashamed to see her in company muffled up in a shawl and a hood, Juliette burst out in protest: 

“Leave her alone!  Aren’t we all at home here?  Poor Jeanne! we are glad to have her!”

She rang the bell, and asked if Miss Smithson and Lucien had returned from their daily walk.  No, they had not yet returned.  It was just as well, she declared; Lucien was getting beyond control, and only the night before had made the five Levasseur girls sob with grief.

“Would you like to play at pigeon vole?” asked Pauline, who seemed to have lost her head with the thought of her impending marriage.  “That wouldn’t tire you.”

But Jeanne shook her head in refusal.  Beneath their drooping lids her eyes wandered over the persons who surrounded her.  The doctor had just informed Monsieur Rambaud that admission to the Hospital for Incurables had been secured for his protegee, and in a burst of emotion the worthy man clasped his hands as though some great personal favor had been conferred on him.  They were all lounging on their chairs, and the conversation became delightfully friendly.  Less effort was shown in following up remarks, and there were at times intervals of silence.  While Madame Deberle and her sister were busily engaged in discussion, Helene said to the two men: 

“Doctor Bodin has advised us to go to Italy.”

“Ah! that is why Jeanne was questioning me!” exclaimed Monsieur Rambaud.  “Would it give you any pleasure to go away there?”

Without vouchsafing any answer, the child clasped her little hands upon her bosom, while her pale face flushed with joy.  Then, stealthily, and with some fear, she looked towards the doctor; it was he, she understood it, whom her mother was consulting.  He started slightly, but retained all his composure.  Suddenly, however, Juliette joined in the conversation, wishing, as usual, to have her finger in every pie.

“What’s that?  Are you talking about Italy?  Didn’t you say you had an idea of going to Italy?  Well, it’s a droll coincidence!  Why, this very morning, I was teasing Henri to take me to Naples!  Just fancy, for ten years now I have been dreaming of seeing Naples!  Every spring he promises to take me there, but he never keeps his word!”

“I didn’t tell you that I would not go,” murmured the doctor.

“What! you didn’t tell me?  Why, you refused flatly, with the excuse that you could not leave your patients!”