“There’s some one there, isn’t there, mamma?” Jeanne asked, as she turned round and caught sight of the doctor. “It is a friend, whom you know.” The child looked at him for a time with thoughtful eyes, as if in doubt; but soon a wave of affection passed over her face. “Yes, yes, I know him; I love him very much.” And with her coaxing air she added: “You will have to cure me, won’t you, sir, to make mamma happy? Oh, I’ll be good; I’ll drink everything you give me.” The doctor again felt her pulse, while Hélène grasped her other hand; and, as she lay there between them, her eyes travelled attentively from one to the other, as though no such advantageous opportunity of seeing and comparing them had ever occurred before. Then her head shook with a nervous trembling; she grew agitated; and her tiny hands caught hold of her mother and the doctor with a convulsive grip. “Do not go away; I’m so afraid. Take care of me; don’t let all the others come near me. I only want you, only you two, near me. Come closer up to me, together!” she stammered. Drawing them nearer, with a violent effort she brought them close to her, still uttering the same entreaty: “Come close, together, together!” Several times did she behave in the same delirious fashion. Then came intervals of quiet, when a heavy sleep fell on her, but it left her breathless and almost dead. When she started out of these short dozes she heard nothing, saw nothing—a white vapor shrouded her eyes. The doctor remained watching over her for a part of the night, which proved a very bad one. He only absented himself for a moment to procure some medicine. Towards morning, when he was about to leave, Hélène, with terrible anxiety in her face accompanied him into the ante-room. “Well?” asked she. “Her condition is very serious,” he answered; “but you must not fear; rely on me; I will give you every assistance. I shall come back at ten o’clock.” When Hélène returned to the bedroom she found Jeanne sitting up in bed, gazing round her with bewildered looks. “You left me! you left me!” she wailed. “Oh! I’m afraid; I don’t want to be left all alone.” To console her, her mother kissed her, but she still gazed round the room: “Where is he?” she faltered. “Oh! tell him not to go away; I want him to be here, I want him—” “He will come back, my darling!” interrupted Hélène, whose tears were mingling with Jeanne’s own. “He will not leave us, I promise you. He loves us too well. Now, be good and lie down. I’ll stay here till he comes back.” “Really? really?” murmured the child, as she slowly fell back into deep slumber.