und relief only under
the icy deluge of the shower bath. At ten o'clock he left the house,
saying he would go himself to see Ramond; but he had another object
in going out--he had seen at a show in Plassans a corsage of old point
d'Alencon; a marvel of beauty which lay there awaiting some lover's
generous folly, and the thought had come to him in the midst of the
tortures of the night, to make a present of it to Clotilde, to adorn her
wedding gown. This bitter idea of himself adorning her, of making her
beautiful and fair for the gift of herself, touched his heart, exhausted
by sacrifice. She knew the corsage, she had admired it with him one day
wonderingly, wishing for it only to place it on the shoulders of the
Virgin at St. Saturnin, an antique Virgin adored by the faithful. The
shopkeeper gave it to him in a little box which he could conceal,
and which he hid, on his return to the house, in the bottom of his
writing-desk.

At three o'clock Dr. Ramond presented himself, and he found Pascal and
Clotilde in the parlor, where they had been awaiting him with secret
excitement and a somewhat forced gaiety, avoiding any further allusion
to his visit. They received him smilingly with exaggerated cordiality.

"Why, you are perfectly well again, master!" said the young man. "You
never looked so strong."

Pascal shook his head.

"Oh, oh, strong, perhaps! only the heart is no longer here."

This involuntary avowal made Clotilde start, and she looked from one to
the other, as if, by the force of circumstances, she compared them with
each other--Ramond, with his smiling and superb face--the face of the
handsome physician adored by the women--his luxuriant black hair and
beard, in all the splendor of his young manhood; and Pascal, with his
white hair and his white beard. This fleece of snow, still so abundant,
retained the tragic beauty of the six months of torture that he had
just passed through. His sorrowful face had aged a little, only his eyes
remained still youthful; brown eyes, brilliant and limpid. But at this
moment all his features expressed so much gentleness, such exalted
goodness, that Clotilde ended by letting her gaze rest upon him with
profound tenderness. There was silence for a moment and each heart
thrilled.

"Well, my children," resumed Pascal heroically, "I think you have
something to say to each other. I have something to do, too, downstairs.
I will come up again presently."

And he left the room, sm