deleine
preceded them; she opened the street door herself; father and son passed
out, but without bidding her adieu. The steps of the carriage were let
down; just as Maurice was assisting his father to ascend them, the count
drew back with native politeness and said,--

"Madeleine first."

Madeleine was still standing in the doorway ready to wave her
handkerchief as the carriage drove off.

"Come, Madeleine, come! come! We are waiting for you!" cried the count.

Maurice expostulated in vain; his father insisted that Madeleine should
go with them.

"Only get into the carriage, my dear father, while I speak with her."

"Get in before a lady? No--no! We are not backwoodsmen,--are we? Come,
Madeleine, come!"

Madeleine saw that argument would not avail with the count; his mind was
not sufficiently clear; it only had glimpses of reason which allowed him
to comprehend by fits and starts.

Ever quick of decision, she said cheerfully, "Yes, in one moment," and
withdrew; but before Maurice had divined her intention, returned,
wearing her bonnet and shawl, and sprang into the carriage.

"Drive into the country," was Madeleine's order to the coachman.

Maurice looked at her with inquiring surprise.

"Dr. Bayard said a drive would do your father good. We can first take a
short drive, then return, and go to the hotel."

Count Tristan looked happy. The motion of the carriage was agreeable to
him, and the fresh air revived him; he gazed eagerly out of the window
as though the commonest objects had caught the charm of novelty. His
pleasure was of brief duration; for when they had driven about a mile,
prudence suggested to Madeleine that it would be well to return before
the patient became fatigued. She pulled the check-cord, and herself gave
the order, "To Brown's hotel."

Count Tristan paid no attention to the command. The hotel was quickly
reached; the carriage stopped; Maurice descended and handed out his
father.

"Let me hear good news of you," said Madeleine to Count Tristan,
encouragingly, and kept her seat.

Leaning heavily on his son's arm, the count mounted the hotel steps, but
he did not comprehend Madeleine's words as an adieu, and turned to speak
to her, thinking she was beside him. The coachman was closing the
carriage-door preparatory to driving away.

"Madeleine! Madeleine!" cried out the count, stretching his hand
imploringly toward her. "Madeleine, come! come!"

Madeleine perceived that Maurice wa