plied Bianchon in a dictatorial tone.

"Monsieur!" said Madame de la Baudraye, almost frightened.

"Forgive my friend," said Lousteau, half jestingly. "He is always the
medical man, and to him love is merely a question of hygiene. But he
is quite disinterested--it is for your sake only that he speaks--as is
evident, since he is starting in an hour--"

At Cosne a little crowd gathered round the old repainted chaise, with
the arms on the panels granted by Louis XIV. to the new La Baudraye.
Gules, a pair of scales or; on a chief azure (color on color) three
cross-crosslets argent. For supporters two greyhounds argent, collared
azure, chained or. The ironical motto, _Deo sic patet fides et
hominibus_, had been inflicted on the converted Calvinist by Hozier the
satirical.

"Let us get out; they will come and find us," said the Baroness,
desiring her coachman to keep watch.

Dinah took Bianchon's arm, and the doctor set off by the banks of the
Loire at so rapid a pace that the journalist had to linger behind. The
physician had explained by a single wink that he meant to do Lousteau a
good turn.

"You have been attracted by Etienne," said Bianchon to Dinah; "he has
appealed strongly to your imagination; last night we were talking about
you.--He loves you. But he is frivolous, and difficult to hold; his
poverty compels him to live in Paris, while everything condemns you to
live at Sancerre.--Take a lofty view of life. Make Lousteau your friend;
do not ask too much of him; he will come three times a year to spend a
few days with you, and you will owe to him your beauty, happiness, and
fortune. Monsieur de la Baudraye may live to be a hundred; but he might
die in a few days if he should leave off the flannel winding-sheet in
which he swathes himself. So run no risks, be prudent both of you.--Say
not a work--I have read your heart."

Madame de la Baudraye was defenceless under this serried attack, and in
the presence of a man who spoke at once as a doctor, a confessor, and
confidential friend.

"Indeed!" said she. "Can you suppose that any woman would care to
compete with a journalist's mistresses?--Monsieur Lousteau strikes me as
agreeable and witty; but he is _blase_, etc., etc.----"

Dinah had turned back, and was obliged to check the flow of words by
which she tried to disguise her intentions; for Etienne, who seemed to
be studying progress in Cosne, was coming to meet them.

"Believe me," said Bianchon, "what he w