een sufficiently
restored for him to recognize every one around him, but his memory was
still clouded, and his thoughts sadly confused. He had partially
recovered his articulation, though his speech continued to be thick and
at times unintelligible. His limbs also had been partly freed from the
thraldom of paralysis, but were still heavy and numb, as though they had
long worn chains. He clung to Madeleine more eagerly than ever, and
seemed to be disturbed and uncomfortable except when she was near him.
He had a vague consciousness that she was the medium through which all
good flowed in to him, and often repeated, as he held her hand,--

"You,--you--yes, you, Madeleine, you saved us all! Good angel--good
angel!"

That her ministry in the sick-room was so grateful to the sufferer was
not surprising; for a gentle, efficient hand which knows precisely how
to make a pillow yield the best support,--a low, soft, yet encouraging
voice,--a cheerful, yet sympathizing face,--a soundless step,--garments
that never rustle,--movements that make no noise,--are among the chief
blessings to an invalid.

The count seemed less happy at the sight of his son; his mind was
haunted by an undefined fear that there was something Maurice would
learn which would make him shrink from his father,--which would disgrace
both; the sufferer had quite forgotten that the discovery he dreaded had
already been made. When he looked at Maurice he often muttered the
words,--

"Unincumbered,--no mortgage,--of course it's all right,--power of
attorney untouched,--leave all to me!"

At other times he would plead, in broken sentences, for pardon, and
denounce himself as a villain who had ruined his only son.

It was a somewhat singular coincidence that the very morning the
countess had risen and dressed for the first time for a fortnight, Count
Tristan appeared to be so much more restless than usual that Madeleine
suggested he should be conducted to her boudoir. Maurice assisted him to
rise, enveloped him in a comfortable _robe de chambre_, and, with the
help of Robert, led him to that pleasant, peace-breathing apartment,
where she had arranged an easy-chair with pillows, had opened the doors
of the conservatory to admit the odorous air, and had shaded the windows
that the light might be softened to an invalid's eyes.

He smiled placidly and gratefully as he looked toward the flowers, and
stretched out his hand to Madeleine. She took her place on a low s