"Oh! Justine, what an unlucky creature I am! The idea of having indigestion just when you are going to be married!" "It's inexcusable, madame." "And to think that it has come just when everything was ready! There are people with him, I suppose?" "Oh! yes, madame." "Do you think that I might go there this evening?" "What's the use, madame, when he is delirious? He wouldn't know you." "All right! I will go to-morrow. Ah! I am really greatly to be pitied." Three days later, on Saturday, Cherami betook himself to Rue de la Ville-l'Eveque, to see what effect the tonic had had on the count. "It was on Sunday that I gave it to him," he reflected; "he must be vigorous and lively now, or else he never will be." According to his custom, Cherami did not stop to speak to the concierge; he went up to the count's reception-room, and found there the valet de chambre holding a handkerchief to his eyes. "What's the trouble, my friend; how's your master?" "Monsieur le comte died last night," the valet replied, with a sigh. "Died!" cried Cherami. "What do you mean? Dead so soon! What in the devil did he die of?" "Inflammation, indigestion. He took to his bed on Tuesday night, and the doctor said at once there was no hope." "Poor count! Ah! that really causes me great distress.--It may be," thought Cherami, as he went away, "that we heated the oven a little too hot." LX THE RETURN OF ULYSSES A month had passed since the Comte de la Beriniere's death. Was it from grief? was it from anger? Madame Monleard had shut herself up in her apartment ever since, and had been to see no one, not even her father or her sister. She must have known, however, that Adolphine would be the first to sympathize with her woes; but unfeeling persons never believe in the keen sensibility of others; and if anybody seems to pity them, they are always convinced that, in reality, that person rejoices in their misfortune. The proverb rightly says that we judge others by ourselves. Monsieur Batonnin, who was always the first to be informed of anything that happened to disturb his friends or acquaintances, learned of the count's death very soon after it occurred, and went at once to Monsieur Gerbault's. "Have you heard of the cruel accident, the misfortune that has befallen your elder daughter?" he said. "The Comte de la Beriniere is dead, and before he had married her." "I should say," rejoined Monsieur Gerbault, "that the misfortune was the count's, not my daughter's." "Oh! of course; but, after all, the count was no longer a young man; while your daughter was going to be a countess and have forty thousand francs a year; and I believe that the count agreed to make a will when he married her, making her his heir. A woman doesn't find such a husband every day." "Monsieur Batonnin, it's a sad business to speculate on the death of the person one marries!" "That is true, it's very sad; but still it's done." "You may say what you please; I do not pity my daughter."