“Monsieur, you came here to ask me to cure that lady, and not to give me advice. In Poland I am a Pole; in Paris I am Parisian. Every man does good in his own way; the greed with which I am credited is not without its motive. The wealth I am amassing has its destination; it is a sacred one. I sell health; the rich can afford to purchase it, and I make them pay. The poor have their doctors. If I had not a purpose in view I would not practise medicine. I live soberly and I spend my time in rushing hither and thither; my natural inclination is to be lazy, and I used to be a gambler. Draw your conclusions, young man. You are too young still to judge old men.” Godefroid was silent. “From what you say,” went on the doctor, “the lady in question is the granddaughter of that imbecile who had no courage but that of fighting, and who took part in delivering over his country to Catherine II?” “Yes, monsieur.” “Well, be at her house Monday next at three o’clock,” said Halpersohn, taking out a note-book in which he wrote a few words. “You will give me then two hundred francs; and if I promise to cure the patient you will give me three thousand. I am told,” he added, “that the lady has shrunk to almost nothing.” “Monsieur, if the most celebrated doctors in Paris are to be believed, it is a neurotic case of so extraordinary a nature that they denied the possibility of its symptoms until they saw them.” “Ah! yes, I remember now what the young lad told me. To-morrow, monsieur.” Godefroid withdrew, after bowing to the man who seemed to him as odd as he was extraordinary. Nothing about him indicated a physician, not even the study, in which the most notable object was the iron safe, made by Huret or Fichet. Godefroid had just time to get to the passage Vivienne before the shops closed for the day, and there he bought a superb accordion, which he ordered sent at once to Monsieur Bernard, giving the address. XVI. A LESSON IN CHARITY From the doctor’s house Godefroid made his way to the rue Chanoinesse, passing along the quai des Augustins, where he hoped to find one of the shops of the commission-publishers open. He was fortunate enough to do so, and had a long talk with a young clerk on books of jurisprudence. When he reached the rue Chanoinesse, he found Madame de la Chanterie and her friends just returning from high mass; in reply to the look she gave him Godefroid made her a significant sign with his head. “Isn’t our dear father Alain here to-day?” he said. “No,” she replied, “not this Sunday; you will not see him till a week from to-day--unless you go where he gave you rendezvous.” “Madame,” said Godefroid in a low voice, “you know he doesn’t intimidate me as these gentlemen do; I wanted to make my report to him--” “And I?”