to hope that he
would recover. One side was still paralyzed and there was partial
paralysis of the tongue. His mind, too, was in a torpid state, but might
gradually awaken. As Madeleine was the person whom he recognized, it
would be well for her to remain near him and minister to his wants.
Madeleine was more than content.

An hour passed and the countess did not return to her son's bedside.
Maurice, at Madeleine's suggestion, ventured to intrude upon her. She
appeared to be lost in a deep revery, and did not raise her eyes at his
approach.

"I fear you are not well, my grandmother; will you not allow me to
conduct you home?"

"I am _well_," she answered bitterly, "but I will go. My presence is of
no use here; my own son ignores it!"

She spoke as though the invalid had refused to recognize her for the
express purpose of adding a fresh insult to those which an evil fortune,
a malicious chance (to use her own expressions), had heaped upon her
head.

Without again visiting her son's chamber, she entered the carriage which
Maurice had ordered; he took his seat opposite to her, and neither
remembered, until they entered the hotel, that Bertha was left behind.

"I was thinking so much of my poor father that I quite forgot Bertha,"
he said, apologetically. "I will return for her at once."

"Yes, go, go!" was all the countess replied.

CHAPTER XLI.

UNBOWED.

Maurice did not suspect how Bertha was employed at that moment, and how
much his heart would have had cause to rejoice if she proved successful
in her undertaking. She was so happy herself in her betrothed that she
was possessed by a strong desire to make some effort by which a like
felicity might be secured to Madeleine. It had been one of the
day-dreams of Bertha's girlhood that she and Madeleine should receive
their wedding rings in the same hour. Gaston was entreating his
_fiancee_ to name a period, even though it might be some months hence
(only a few days before, we think, he declared himself content with
knowing that he might hope for this crowning joy _at the most distant
date_), when he might call her his.

Bertha replied, tantalizingly, "The time depends upon Madeleine, not
upon me. She must name the day."

"May she, indeed?" asked M. de Bois, joyfully, for he was convinced that
he could influence Madeleine's decision.

"Yes, she will name it in naming the day for her own wedding. I have
always intended that we should be married togeth