d let a
vagabond cheat drug and sicken this poor child for what is not ailment
at all--and the teeth will relieve in a few days. Or, if she were
feverish, have not we decoctions brewed from Heaven's own pure herbs in
the garden, with no unknown ingredient?'

'Madame,' said Eustacie, ruffling into fierceness, 'you are very good to
me; but I must keep the management of my daughter to myself.'

The Duchess looked at her from head to foot. Perhaps it was with an
impulse to treat her impertinence as she would have done that of a
dependant; but the old lady never forgot herself: she only shrugged
her shoulders and said, with studied politeness, 'When I unfortunately
interrupted your consultation with this eminent physician, it was to ask
you a question regarding this English family. Will you do me the honour
to enter my cabinet?'

And whereas no one was looking, the old lady showed her displeasure by
ushering Madame de Ribaumont into her cabinet like a true noble stranger
guest; so that Eustacie felt disconcerted.

The Duchess then began to read aloud her own letter to Lord Walwyn,
pausing at every clause, so that Eustacie felt the delay and discussion
growing interminable, and the Duchess then requested to have Madame de
Ribaumont's own letter at once, as she wished to inclose it, make up her
packet, and send it without delay. Opening a secret door in her cabinet,
she showed Eustacie stair by which she might reach Maitre Gardon's room
without crossing the hall. Eustacie hoped to find him there and tell him
how intolerable was the Duchess; but, though she found him, it was in
company with the tutor, who was spending an afternoon on Plato with him.
She could only take up her letter and retreat to Madame's cabinet, where
she had left her child. She finished it as best she might, addressed
it after the herald's spelling of the title, bound it with some of the
Duchess's black floss silk--wondering meanwhile, but little guessing
that the pedlar knew, where was the tress that had bound her last
attempt at correspondence, guessing least of all that that tress lay
on a heart still living and throbbing for her. All this had made her a
little forget her haste to assert her liberty of action by returning to
the pedlar; but, behold, when she came back to the hall, it had resumed
its pristine soberness, and merely a few lingering figures were to be
seen, packing up their purchases.

While she was still looking round in dismay, Mademo