Three days later Henri allowed his patient her first boiled egg. It was a matter of the highest importance. Jeanne’s mind was made up to eat it with none present but her mother and the doctor, and the door must be closed. As it happened, Monsieur Rambaud was present at the moment; and when Hélène began to spread a napkin, by way of tablecloth, on the bed, the child whispered in her ear: “Wait a moment—when he has gone.” And as soon as he had left them she burst out: “Now, quick! quick! It’s far nicer when there’s nobody but ourselves.” Hélène lifted her to a sitting posture, while Henri placed two pillows behind her to prop her up; and then, with the napkin spread before her and a plate on her knees, Jeanne waited, smiling. “Shall I break the shell for you?” asked her mother. “Yes, do, mamma.” “And I will cut you three little bits of bread,” added the doctor. “Oh! four; you’ll see if I don’t eat four.” It was now the doctor’s turn to be addressed endearingly. When he gave her the first slice, she gripped his hand, and as she still clasped her mother’s, she rained kisses on both with the same passionate tenderness. “Come, come; you will have to be good,” entreated Hélène, who observed that she was ready to burst into tears; “you must please us by eating your egg.” At this Jeanne ventured to begin; but her frame was so enfeebled that with the second sippet of bread she declared herself wearied. As she swallowed each mouthful, she would say, with a smile, that her teeth were tender. Henri encouraged her, while Hélène’s eyes were brimful of tears. Heaven! she saw her child eating! She watched the bread disappear, and the gradual consumption of this first egg thrilled her to the heart. To picture Jeanne stretched dead beneath the sheets was a vision of mortal terror; but now she was eating, and eating so prettily, with all an invalid’s characteristic dawdling and hesitancy! “You won’t be angry, mamma? I’m doing my best. Why, I’m at my third bit of bread! Are you pleased?” “Yes, my darling, quite pleased. Oh! you don’t know all the joy the sight gives me!” And then, in the happiness with which she overflowed, Hélène forgetfully leaned against Henri’s shoulder. Both laughed gleefully at the child, but over her face there suddenly crept a sullen flush; she gazed at them stealthily, and drooped her head, and refused to eat any more, her features glooming the while with distrust and anger. At last they had to lay her back in bed again. CHAPTER XIII.