verdict in this medical dilemma.

Lisbeth stood as if petrified three yards away from the bed where
Valerie lay dying, as she saw a priest from Saint-Thomas d'Aquin
standing by her friend's pillow, and a sister of charity in attendance.
Religion could find a soul to save in a mass of rottenness which, of the
five senses of man, had now only that of sight. The sister of charity
who alone had been found to nurse Valerie stood apart. Thus the Catholic
religion, that divine institution, always actuated by the spirit of
self-sacrifice, under its twofold aspect of the Spirit and the Flesh,
was tending this horrible and atrocious creature, soothing her death-bed
by its infinite benevolence and inexhaustible stores of mercy.

The servants, in horror, refused to go into the room of either their
master or mistress; they thought only of themselves, and judged their
betters as righteously stricken. The smell was so foul that in spite of
open windows and strong perfumes, no one could remain long in Valerie's
room. Religion alone kept guard there.

How could a woman so clever as Valerie fail to ask herself to what end
these two representatives of the Church remained with her? The dying
woman had listened to the words of the priest. Repentance had risen on
her darkened soul as the devouring malady had consumed her beauty. The
fragile Valerie had been less able to resist the inroads of the disease
than Crevel; she would be the first to succumb, and, indeed, had been
the first attacked.

"If I had not been ill myself, I would have come to nurse you," said
Lisbeth at last, after a glance at her friend's sunken eyes. "I have
kept my room this fortnight or three weeks; but when I heard of your
state from the doctor, I came at once."

"Poor Lisbeth, you at least love me still, I see!" said Valerie.
"Listen. I have only a day or two left to think, for I cannot say to
live. You see, there is nothing left of me--I am a heap of mud! They
will not let me see myself in a glass.--Well, it is no more than I
deserve. Oh, if I might only win mercy, I would gladly undo all the
mischief I have done."

"Oh!" said Lisbeth, "if you can talk like that, you are indeed a dead
woman."

"Do not hinder this woman's repentance, leave her in her Christian
mind," said the priest.

"There is nothing left!" said Lisbeth in consternation. "I cannot
recognize her eyes or her mouth! Not a feature of her is there! And her
wit has deserted her! Oh, it is awfu