t you coming in to see him? You're
his own mother; and, I swan, you haven't been near him this blessed
day."

"Woman!" cried the countess, lashed into fury. "How dare you address
such language to me?"

"Law sakes!" exclaimed Mrs. Gratacap, lifting up her hands and eyes.
"What _did_ I say? You _are_ his mother, an't you? There's no shame
about it, I suppose. I hadn't a notion of putting you into a passion. I
thought it mighty queer you didn't come in to see your own son when he's
lying so low; and I said so,--that's all! But if you don't want to come,
I don't want to force you. I can't put natural feelings in the hearts of
people that haven't got them; it stands to reason I can't, and you
needn't be flying out at me on that account."

Mrs. Gratacap, after delivering this admonitory sentiment, was returning
to the patient when she encountered Bertha, and inquired,--

"Did Mr. Gramont say when he would come back?"

"He did not say; but I think he will be absent for a couple of hours,"
replied Bertha.

"Oh, if that's the case, I must get a helping hand somewhere.
You're a young thing, and, I dare say, strong enough. Come along and
help me move the poor dear."

"Willingly," replied Bertha, "if I am only able."

As they entered the count's chamber, Mrs. Gratacap again subdued her
voice, and though her words and manner were always of the most positive
kind, there was a sort of rude softness (if we may use the contradictory
expression) in her mode of instructing Bertha in the service required.

When the count was comfortably placed, she sat down, and Bertha also
took a seat.

"I say," commenced Mrs. Gratacap, in a half whisper, "that's the most of
a tigress yonder I ever had the luck to come across. Why, she's got no
more natural feeling than an oyster,--no more warm blood in her veins
than a cauliflower. I wonder how such beings ever get created. Are there
many of that sort in the parts you came from?"

"She is very proud," replied Bertha, "and I am afraid there is no lack
of pride in France among the noble class to which she belongs."

"Pride! Why, I wonder what she's got to be proud of? She looks as though
she couldn't do a thing in life that's worth doing? I like pride well
enough! I'm awful proud myself when I've done anything remarkable. But I
wonder what that rock yonder ever did in all her born days to be proud
of?"

Bertha tried to explain by saying, "Her pride is of family descent."

"I suppose she d