told me, not distrusting the
overflow of words called forth by the slightest question, which swamped
the principal matter in a deluge of idle details: such as the hour of
arrival, the rudeness of a guard, the lateness of the train. Twice or
three times in the same week, she returned to Saint-Germain and slept
there; then, her sister's illness over, she resumed her regular and
peaceful existence.

[Illustration: p187-198]

Unfortunately, shortly after this, she in her turn fell ill. She came
back one day from her lessons, shivering, wet, and fevered. Inflammation
of the lungs set in; from the first her case was serious, and soon--the
doctor told me--hopeless. My despair was maddening. Then I thought only
of soothing her last moments. The family she loved so well, of which she
was so proud, I would bring to her deathbed. Without letting her know,
I first wrote to her sister at Saint-Germain, and I went off at
once myself to her uncle, the Chief Rabbi. I hardly remember at what
unreasonable hour I reached his house. Great catastrophes throw such a
confusion into life and upset every detail. I fancy the good Rabbi was
dining. He came out into the hall, wondering and amazed, to speak to me.

"Monsieur," I said to him, "there are moments when all hatred must
cease."

He turned his venerable face towards me with a bewildered look.

I resumed:

"Your niece is dying!"

"My niece! But I have no niece; you are mistaken."

"Oh, Sir! I implore you, lay aside all foolish family rancour. I am
speaking of Madame Deloche, the wife of Captain----"

"I do not know Madame Deloche. You are mistaken, my son, I assure you."

And he gently pushed me toward the door, taking me for a hoaxer or
a madman. I must in fact have appeared very odd. What I heard was so
unexpected, so terrible. She had lied to me then. Wherefore?

Suddenly an idea flashed across me. I directed the cabman to drive me
to the address of one of those pupils of whom she had so often spoken to
me, the daughter of a well-known banker.

I inquired of the servant: "Madame Deloche?"

"There is no one here of that name."

"Yes, I know that. It is a lady who gives music lessons to your young
ladies."

"We have no young ladies here, not even a piano. I don't know what you
mean."

And he angrily shut the door in my face.

I made no further inquiries. I felt sure of meeting with the same
answer, the same disappointment. On my return to our little house,
they gave