men to care for, as she herself
expressed it--her grandfather, her father, and her brother--and she had
not had the time to lay in a large stock of learning. She could read and
write, could spell words that were not too long, and "do sums," if they
were not too intricate; and that was the extent of her acquirement. And
if she continued to intimidate him still, if he considered her far and
away the superior of all other women upon earth, it was because he
knew the ineffable tenderness, the goodness of heart, the unflinching
courage, that animated that frail little body, who went about her duties
silently and met them as if they had been pleasures.

They had in Maurice a subject of conversation that was of common
interest to them both and of which they never wearied. It was to
Maurice's friend, his brother, to whom she was devoting herself thus
tenderly, the brave, kind man, so ready with his aid in time of trouble,
who she felt had made her so many times his debtor. She was full to
overflowing with a sentiment of deepest gratitude and affection, that
went on widening and deepening as she came to know him better and
recognize his sterling qualities of head and heart, and he, whom she was
tending like a little child, was actuated by such grateful sentiments
that he would have liked to kiss her hands each time she gave him a
cup of bouillon. Day by day did this bond of tender sympathy draw them
nearer to each other in that profound solitude amid which they lived,
harassed by an anxiety that they shared in common. When he had utterly
exhausted his recollections of the dismal march from Rheims to Sedan, to
the particulars of which she never seemed to tire of listening, the same
question always rose to their lips: what was Maurice doing then? why
did he not write? Could it be that the blockade of Paris was already
complete, and was that the reason why they received no news? They had as
yet had but one letter from him, written at Rouen, three days after his
leaving them, in which he briefly stated that he had reached that city
on his way to Paris, after a long and devious journey. And then for a
week there had been no further word; the silence had remained unbroken.

In the morning, after Doctor Dalichamp had attended to his patient, he
liked to sit a while and chat, putting his cares aside for the moment.
Sometimes he also returned at evening and made a longer visit, and it
was in this way that they learned what was going on