hinking of Athaliah alone when
he says that the

prosperity
Of wicked men runs like a torrent past,
And soon is spent.

But on this memorable afternoon, when the Cure had come as well, and
by his interminable visit had drained my aunt's strength, Francoise
followed Eulalie from the room, saying: "Mme. Octave, I will leave you
to rest; you look utterly tired out."

And my aunt answered her not a word, breathing a sigh so faint that
it seemed it must prove her last, and lying there with closed eyes, as
though already dead. But hardly had Francoise arrived downstairs, when
four peals of a bell, pulled with the utmost violence, reverberated
through the house, and my aunt, sitting erect upon her bed, called out:
"Has Eulalie gone yet? Would you believe it; I forgot to ask her whether
Mme. Goupil arrived in church before the Elevation. Run after her,
quick!"

But Francoise returned alone, having failed to overtake Eulalie. "It
is most provoking," said my aunt, shaking her head. "The one important
thing that I had to ask her."

In this way life went by for my aunt Leonie, always the same, in the
gentle uniformity of what she called, with a pretence of deprecation
but with a deep tenderness, her 'little jog-trot.' Respected by all
and sundry, not merely in her own house, where every one of us, having
learned the futility of recommending any healthier mode of life, had
become gradually resigned to its observance, but in the village as well,
where, three streets away, a tradesman who had to hammer nails into a
packing-case would send first to Francoise to make sure that my aunt
was not 'resting'--her 'little jog-trot' was, none the less, brutally
disturbed on one occasion in this same year. Like a fruit hidden among
its leaves, which has grown and ripened unobserved by man, until it
falls of its own accord, there came upon us one night the kitchen-maid's
confinement. Her pains were unbearable, and, as there was no midwife
in Combray, Francoise had to set off before dawn to fetch one from
Thiberzy. My aunt was unable to 'rest,' owing to the cries of the girl,
and as Francoise, though the distance was nothing, was very late in
returning, her services were greatly missed. And so, in the course of
the morning, my mother said to me: "Run upstairs, and see if your aunt
wants anything."

I went into the first of her two rooms, and through the open door of the
other saw my aunt lying on her side, asleep. I could hear her