"Ah, dear child," said Countess Betty dejectedly, "that will not help us now." Marion came and reported once more that in Billy's room everything was quite still. "Oh dear, oh dear," sighed Countess Betty; she could not calmly sit still, so she rose and went over to see her brother. Count Hamilcar lay in his room on the sofa; he was keeping his eyes shut, his face was strangely sallow, and the features seemed sharper and more pointed than usual. When his sister came to a stop before him, he opened his eyes and looked at her with a glance which had the indifference of a man who to be sure surveys us, but whose thoughts and dreams are very far from us. "Still no certainty," said Countess Betty whimperingly. "She admits nobody, saying she wants to sleep." "Let her sleep," answered the count. "Yes, but she might let us in," wailed the old lady further, "what is all this? all these affairs? the whole house is whispering. The Professor's family will leave today and carry the story all over the country, and you, Hamilcar, you don't say anything either." The count raised himself slightly. "No, Betty," he said, "I say nothing, because I know nothing. We cannot prevent others from talking, but we ought not to speak until there is need for it. Let the child sleep, then she shall tell you everything, and then, Betty, I shall say my say too. Will it soon be time for breakfast?" "Oh, Hamilcar," replied Countess Betty intimidated, "you surely won't come to breakfast, you are so unstrung." The count laid his finger along his nose and said sharply, "I shall come, and I hope it will be on time as usual. Also I did not hear you sing a hymn: did you not have the accustomed worship?" "No, we were so excited, you see," the old lady excused herself, but the count was dissatisfied. "You are wrong, Betty, have your worship as you do every Sunday; but if I may request it, no reference to these happenings in the Bible reading or in the prayer, just ordinary devotions. It is not our fault that something has come in here which does not belong to us, but there is no reason why we should surrender to it: we insist on our way, and that ends it." Wearily the count leaned back and shut his eyes; his sister looked at him with alarm. "What ails you, Hamilcar?" she asked, "you are so pale." The count motioned impatiently with his hand. "I shall manage," he said, "circulation and heart-beat simply won't listen to us, and the only trouble is that they are forever meddling with our affairs. There is an error here in the contract that we call our life. But for the rest, it is old age, Betty, just that, and that is after all comprehensible." Countess Betty softly left the room, and outside she said to Madame Bonnechose, much troubled, "_Chère amie_, my brother requires of us that we have devotions; there is nothing to be done, so please call the chamber-maids and the butler, _ô ma chère, il est terriblement philosophe._"