"In fact it was only yesterday she could speak. She then mentioned that an old woman accompanied her." "God be praised!" cried Clémence, clasping her hands fervently. "I can inform him that his favorite still lives. What joy for him, who in his last letter spoke of this poor child with such painful regret! Pardon me, sir; but if your lordship only knew how happy your information makes me, as well as another, who, still more than myself, has loved and protected Fleur-de-Marie! But I pray you, where is she at this moment?" "Near Asnières, in the house of one of the physicians of this hospital--Dr. Griffon, who, notwithstanding some oddities which I deplore, has excellent qualities." "And she is now out of danger?" "Yes, madame; but only since two or three days. Today she is allowed to write to her protectors." "Oh! it is I, my lord, I who will do this, or rather, it is I who will have the joy of conducting her to those, who, believing her dead, regret her so bitterly." "I appreciate those regrets, madame; for it is impossible to know Fleur-de-Marie without being charmed with her angelic qualities: her grace and sweetness exercise on all those who approach her an unbounded influence. The woman who saved her, and who has since watched her night and day, as she would have watched her own child, is a courageous and determined person, but of a temper so habitually violent, that she has been called La Louve--judge! Well! a word from Fleur-de-Marie can calm her. I have heard her sob and utter cries of despair, when, at one time, Dr. Griffon had but little hopes of saving Fleur-de-Marie." "That does not astonish me--I know La Louve." "You, madame?" said Saint Rémy, surprised; "you know La Louve?" "It must surprise you, truly, my lord," said the marchioness, smiling sweetly, for Clémence was happy--oh! very happy--in thinking of the joyful surprise she would cause the prince. What would have been her delight, if she had known that it was a daughter whom he believed dead--that she was about to restore to Rudolph. "Oh! this is so joyful a day for me, that I wish it to be so for others; it seems to me that there must be many unfortunate persons here to succor; this would be an excellent way to express my gratitude, my joy, for the news you have given me." Then, addressing one of the sisters, who had just given a drink to Miss de Fermont, she said, "Well, sister, is she yet sensible?" [Illustration: THE CONVALESCENT] "Not yet, madame--she is so weak. Poor thing! her pulse can hardly be felt." "I will wait until she is able to be removed in my carriage. But tell me, sister, among all these unhappy sick, do you not know some who particularly merit my interest and pity, and to whom I can be useful before I leave the hospital?"