"Now, try to be calm and quiet; let me take care of you, and don't talk! the doctor says you mustn't. You're in my room; that vexes you, perhaps, but, _dame!_ I didn't know your address, and I wouldn't let you be taken to the hospital. It don't put me out a bit, don't you be afraid; I'm my own mistress, and I snap my fingers at what folks say! I know well enough that there's some people always ready to see something wrong in whatever anyone does, and who'll think you're my lover. I don't care for that. There was a time when I'd have liked right well to have you, I don't deny it; I had fallen in love with you; you made my head queer, like a sunstroke. And that was when I turned my back on poor Sans-Cravate! I made a great success of that. You told me right out that you loved somebody else--and then--there was what I heard, what I found out about you. I saw plain enough, then, that you was too far above me--by the way you acted. Hush! don't speak, the doctor says you mustn't. You don't like what I say, so I'm done, it's dead; I won't mention it again. When chance let me into your secret, you made me swear to keep quiet about it; but that's no reason why I can't tell you, between ourselves, that it's a noble thing you're doing, and you ought to have the prize of virtue, the prize of---- Well, you're moving your lips, so I'll shut up. Now, go to sleep, or try to go to sleep; and when you wake up, perhaps you'll have a pleasant surprise--no one knows!" "You are too good," murmured Paul, in a weak voice; "but I am in your way here; you ought to have let me----" "Hold your tongue this minute! I ought to have let you be taken to the hospital, eh? That would have been a sweet thing to do! when I was the cause of it all--yes, it was my nonsense! If I hadn't made eyes at you--in fact, if I hadn't tried to catch you, would Sans-Cravate have hit you? Now, he hates me, and he's quite right; but he's all wrong to fight you, because it ain't your fault. Come, go to sleep; the doctor said you must sleep; and I tell you again that you ain't in my way; I've got another bed in the closet, and I'll sleep on that. I'm going out to get the medicines the doctor ordered; I shan't be gone long." Bastringuette left the room; and Paul closed his eyes, praying heaven to deal kindly with him, because his existence was still necessary. Toward evening, after several hours of restless slumber, he opened his eyes; two faces were leaning over him, waiting for the moment of his awakening. Paul uttered a cry of surprise when he recognized Elina. "Yes, it's Mamzelle Elina," said Bastringuette; "it's your sweetheart. I went and waited for her at her dressmaker's door, so's to tell her what had happened to you, and I had an idea she'd come back with me. That's why I said perhaps you'd have a pleasant waking-up." Paul held out his hand to the little dressmaker, who gazed at him with eyes full of love and tears as she said: