Léodgard simply bent his head to his wife. His eyes sought his daughter's cradle, and when he espied it he dropped the chevalier's arm, went forward alone, put aside the curtains that covered it, and sat down beside it. Blanche was at the point of waking; her sweet face was purple and swollen as a result of her disease; but she smiled when she woke, and on recognizing Léodgard she cried: "Oh! my friend! my friend! he not sick too! he come to see Blanche!" The count leaned over the cradle and covered the child with kisses. Bathilde turned her head away to hide her tears; but they were not unpleasant, and she did not try to restrain them. "Does the doctor still say that there is no danger?" asked Léodgard, addressing Jarnonville; but he pretended not to hear, in order to compel the count to address his wife. Seeing that the chevalier persisted in not replying, Léodgard made up his mind to turn to Bathilde; whereupon the young woman murmured, without looking at her husband: "My daughter has now reached the point where her disease is at its height; but to-night, about midnight, the doctor says that the fever should begin to abate; he has assured me that Blanche is in no danger." "But this extreme redness----" "Is characteristic of this fever. It worried me too, but the doctor declares that it is better that it should be so.--But you, monsieur le comte--I thought that you were not allowed to leave your bed yet; is it not imprudent?" "Your husband would not listen to reason, madame," said Jarnonville; "his desire to see his daughter was stronger than any words of mine!" Léodgard looked up at the chevalier and smiled slightly. "Ah!" he murmured; "you seem to be talking now, Jarnonville!" Then, turning again toward his daughter, he said: "Little darling! I am terribly bored, being deprived of your visits!--Get well very soon; but meanwhile it is my turn to come to see you, and I will come." "Every day?" whispered Blanche. "Oh, yes! every day! Au revoir, my child, au revoir!" And the count rose, bowed to Bathilde, took the chevalier's arm, and returned to his apartment. But the next day it was impossible for Léodgard to rise; the exertion of the preceding day had reopened his wound. The doctor scolded him roundly for his imprudence, and the count was fain to be content with hearing from his daughter every instant of the day. Luckily, the reports were excellent; the malady was abating, and the recovery would be rapid. Blanche should be brought to him as soon as it could be done without danger to her. Four days more had elapsed, when, on waking one morning, Léodgard found Blanche on his bed. He threw his arms about her and covered her with kisses. "Friend still sick?" asked the little girl, smiling at her father. But he gazed fondly at her, saying: