y. As Ruth
Thornton occupied the same room, Madeleine needed no watcher at night;
but Maurice scarcely left her during the day. Her light food, her
cooling drinks and calming potions, she received from his hands alone.
Hour after hour, he sat and read to her,--sat and talked to her,--sat
and looked at her,--and never was weary,--never was so superlatively
happy in his life! He was jealous of any one who attempted to share his
vigils; when Mrs. Lawkins approached, he playfully reminded her that
they had agreed upon a division of labor, and Madame de Gramont was her
patient; when Ruth and Bertha tried to press upon him their services, he
had always some plea to peremptorily dismiss them both. Mrs. Walton was
the only one in whose favor he relented a little. He allowed her to sit
beside his charge for a couple of hours every day. How could he refuse
when the presence of this invaluable friend gave Madeleine such true
pleasure, and when Mrs. Walton was filled with such evident delight in
watching the intercourse of these two kindred spirits, who to her eyes
seemed created for partnership?

Madame de Gramont had daily, with a sort of ceremonious affection,
inquired after Madeleine's health. Madeleine's first visit, when she was
able to rise, was to her aunt; but Maurice would not allow his patient
to attempt to walk without his supporting arm about her waist. We will
not say that Madame de Gramont greeted Madeleine _cordially_; but she
received her with marked consideration, and expressed satisfaction at
beholding her able to move; this was the sole allusion she made to the
accident. Maurice, who had grown thoroughly tyrannical, would only
permit Madeleine to remain a few moments with his grandmother, and
brought the interview to a sudden close.

Now that Madeleine was convalescent, she found great enjoyment in long,
pleasant drives with Bertha, Maurice and Gaston. On bright days they
left the carriage, and wandered into the woods to gather wild flowers,
and rest beneath the trees. On one of these occasions, Madeleine was
sitting upon a fallen tree, her lap filled with the flowers she had
culled, and which she was weaving into a wreath. Bertha aided her work
by selecting and handing the requisite flowers. Maurice was supplying
her with luxuriant moss which she mingled among the bright blossoms.
Gaston, lying at Bertha's feet, contemplated the lovely picture before
him. The wreath was finished, and Madeleine wound it about B