At this moment Dr. Rivals was shown into the dining-room; he was overjoyed at finding so gay and talkative a circle. “You see, madame, I was right: our invalid only needed a little excitement.” “There I differ from you!” cried Dr. Hirsch, fiercely, snuffing the battle from afar. Old Rivals examined this singular person with some distrust. “Dr. Hirsch,” said D’Argenton, “allow me to present you to Dr. Rivals.” They bowed like two duellists on the field who salute each other before crossing their swords. The country physician concluded his new acquaintance to be some famous Parisian practitioner, full of eccentricities and hobbies. D’Argenton’s illness was the occasion of a long discussion between the physicians. It was droll to see the poet’s expression. He was inclined to take offence that Dr. Rivals should consider him a mere hypochondriac, and again to be equally annoyed when Dr. Hirsch insisted upon his having a hundred diseases, each one with a worse name than the others. Charlotte listened with tears in her eyes. “But this is utter nonsense,” cried Rivals, who had listened impatiently; “there are no such diseases, in the first place, and if there were, our friend has no such symptoms.” This was too much for Dr. Hirsch, and the battle began in earnest. They hurled at each other titles of books in every language, names of every drug known and unknown to the faculty. The scene was more laughable than terrific, and was very much like one from “Molière.” Jack and his mother escaped to the piazza, Where Labassandre was already trying his voice. The winged inhabitants of the forest twittered in terror; the peacocks in the neighboring château answered by those alarmed cries with which they greet the approach of a thunder-shower; the neighboring peasants started from their sleep, and old Mother Archambauld wondered what was going on in the little house, where the moon shone so whitely on the legend in gold characters over the door: PARVA DOMUS, MAGNA QUIES. CHAPTER XI. CÉCILE. “Where are you going so early?” asked Dr. Hirsch, indolently, as he saw Charlotte, gayly dressed, prayer-book in hand, come slowly down the stairs, followed by Jack, who was once more clad in the pet costume of Lord Pembroke. “To church, my dear sir. Has not D’Argenton told you that I have an especial duty to perform there this morning? Come with us, will you not?” It was Assumption Day, and Charlotte had been much flattered by being asked to distribute the bread. She, with her child, took the seats reserved for them on a bench close to the choir. The church was adorned with flowers. The choir-boys were in surplices freshly ironed, and on a rustic table the loaves of bread were piled high. To complete the picture, all the foresters, in their green costumes, with their knives in their belts and their carbines in their hands, had come to join in the Te Deum of this official fête.