e
collected in the course of the afternoon, and her long skirts whirling
and rustling as she sailed through the stillness of the sick-room. It
was altogether futile for her to lower her voice and assume a pitiful
air; her indifference peeped through all disguise; it could be seen
that she was happy, quite joyous indeed, in the possession of perfect
health. Helene was very downcast in her company, her heart rent by
jealous anguish.

"Madame," said Jeanne one evening, "why doesn't Lucien come to play
with me?"

Juliette was embarrassed for a moment, and merely answered with a
smile.

"Is he ill too?" continued the child.

"No, my darling, he isn't ill; he has gone to school."

Then, as Helene accompanied her into the ante-room, she wished to
apologize for her prevarication.

"Oh! I would gladly bring him; I know that there's no infection. But
children get frightened with the least thing, and Lucien is such a
stupid. He would just burst out sobbing when he saw your poor angel--"

"Yes, indeed; you are quite right," interrupted Helene, her heart
ready to break with the thought of this woman's gaiety, and her
happiness in possessing a child who enjoyed robust health.

A second week had passed away. The disease was following its usual
course, robbing Jeanne every hour of some of her vitality. Fearfully
rapid though it was, however, it evinced no haste, but, in
accomplishing the destruction of that delicate, lovable flesh, passed
in turn through each foreseen phase, without skipping a single one of
them. Thus the spitting of blood had ceased, and at intervals the
cough disappeared. But such was the oppressive feeling which stifled
the child that you could detect the ravages of the disease by the
difficulty she experienced in breathing. Such weakness could not
withstand so violent an attack; and the eyes of the Abbe and Monsieur
Rambaud constantly moistened with tears as they heard her. Day and
night under the shelter of the curtains the sound of oppressed
breathing arose; the poor darling, whom the slightest shock seemed
likely to kill, was yet unable to die, but lived on and on through the
agony which bathed her in sweat. Her mother, whose strength was
exhausted, and who could no longer bear to hear that rattle, went into
the adjoining room and leaned her head against the wall.

Jeanne was slowly becoming oblivious to her surroundings. She no
longer saw people, and her face bore an unconscious and forlorn
express