But at last Virginie realized that her tears and kisses were no longer sufficient for the invalid, who motioned that he was consumed by thirst. "Wait--wait, my dear," she said, "I'll give you--Great God! there's nothing here but water! Why, that's no good--it increases the fever. I'll go--the doctor must come right away; I'll go and fetch him. I'm going. Don't be impatient, my friend; I won't be long; and after this you won't be alone any more; I shan't leave you again!" Virginie ran to the door, returned to the bed, pulled the clothes over the sick man, arranged his head, then ran downstairs four at a time, and arrived at the concierge's door all out of breath, saying: "A doctor! where's there a doctor?" "Why, there's several in the quarter. Is the gentleman sicker?" "His address--quick!" "A doctor's address? There's one on this street--yonder, next to the fruit store; then there's the one that bled me; but----" Virginie was no longer listening; she was already at the door the concierge had pointed out. She ran up to the doctor's room and begged him to come instantly to see a sick man, in the tone that only women can assume when the object of their affection is involved. The doctor made no reply but took his hat, which was much better, and followed Virginie, who led the way to Auguste's garret. He ascended the six flights almost as quickly as she did, and when he entered the room apparently saw nothing but the invalid. All honor to the men who devote their lives to relieving the ills of mankind, and who show the same zeal for the poor as for the rich. Their number is large, and although Molière did poke fun at the doctors, doubtless he would be the first to do them justice to-day. Virginie gazed anxiously at the doctor's face while he was feeling the invalid's pulse. His eyes gave no favorable indication; while Auguste, heedless of everything that was going on about him, seemed neither to see nor to hear anything. "Well, monsieur?" queried Virginie at last. "The young man is in bad shape; he has a high fever and there is every reason to expect that it will increase; however, with extreme care, I hope we shall save him." "Oh, monsieur, don't neglect anything, I beg you!" "But he is very badly off here; the room is so small, there is so little air, and the sun beats down so fiercely on the roofs, and makes these garrets burning hot; this is a very unhealthy place." "Oh! he shall leave this garret this very day; he shall live in my room as long as he's sick. It's right below here; he'll be much more comfortable there, for it's a good size, at least--one can turn round in it. He'd have been there before this if I could have carried him alone. If you would be kind enough to help me, monsieur, it would soon be done!" "Let's try it, mademoiselle."