The Episcopal Palace of D---- adjoined the hospital. It was a spacious, handsome mansion, built at the beginning of the last century by Monseigneur Henri Puget, Doctor in Theology of the Faculty of Paris, and Abbé of Simore, who was Bishop of D---- in 1712. This palace was a true seigneurial residence: everything had a noble air in it,--the episcopal apartments, the reception rooms, the bed-rooms, the court of honor, which was very wide, with arcades after the old Florentine fashion, and the gardens planted with magnificent trees. In the dining-room, a long and superb gallery on the ground floor, Monseigneur Henri Puget had given a state dinner on July 29, 1714, to Messeigneurs Charles Brûlart de Genlis, Archbishop, Prince of Embrun; Antoine de Mesgrigny, Capuchin and Bishop of Grasse; Philip de Vendôme, Grand Prior of France and Abbé of St. Honoré de Lérins; François de Berton de Grillon, Baron and Bishop of Vence; Cæsar de Sabran de Forcalquier, Bishop and Lord of Glandève, and Jean Soanen, priest of the oratory, preacher in ordinary to the King, and Bishop and Lord of Senez. The portraits of these seven reverend personages decorated the dining-room, and the memorable date, JULY 29, 1714, was engraved in golden letters on a white marble tablet. The hospital was a small, single-storeyed house with a little garden. Three days after his arrival the Bishop visited it, and when his visit was over asked the Director to be kind enough to come to his house. "How many patients have you at this moment?" he asked. "Twenty-six, Monseigneur." "The number I counted," said the Bishop. "The beds are very close together," the Director continued. "I noticed it." "The wards are only bed-rooms, and difficult to ventilate." "I thought so." "And then, when the sun shines, the garden is very small for the convalescents." "I said so to myself." "During epidemics, and we have had the typhus this year, and had miliary fever two years ago, we have as many as one hundred patients, and do not know what to do with them." "That thought occurred to me." "What would you have, Monseigneur!" the Director said, "we must put up with it." This conversation had taken place in the dining-hall on the ground floor. The Bishop was silent for a moment, and then turned smartly to the Director. "How many beds," he asked him, "do you think that this room alone would hold?" "Monseigneur's dining-room?" the stupefied Director asked. The Bishop looked round the room, and seemed to be estimating its capacity. "It would hold twenty beds," he said, as if speaking to himself, and then, raising his voice, he added,-- "Come, Director, I will tell you what it is. There is evidently a mistake. You have twenty-six persons in five or six small rooms. There are only three of us, and we have room for fifty. There is a mistake, I repeat; you have my house and I have yours. Restore me mine; this is yours."