“Katrine,” said madame, “go and call Julie. Why, here it’s seven o’clock,
and she not up yet! I never knew her to lie abed like this before. Tell
her she must come down right away and dress the baby.”
Katrine came back in a few minutes, looking frightened.
“I calls von, dwo, dree dimes. She vill not hear. Den I goes oop der
shtep und calls von more dime. She vill not ondershtand. She shtare mit
de eyes vide—und see notting! Den she schream like murter.”
“Why, mercy on us, Dolf!” exclaimed madame, glancing across the
breakfast-table at her husband, “what if the child’s sick! some fever
or other!—something catching!—and these children!—she ought to be got
out of the house immediately!... St. Mary’s Hospital! Yes, that’s the
place. She’s Catholic, I believe. Katrine!—no, wait! perhaps it isn’t
anything serious, after all. We must find out first. Dolf, what if you
leave word for Dr. Smith to call round as you go down street? No, stay!”
in an undertone, “don’t send _him_. Get some one that doesn’t go in our
set—some stranger. Being up in the attic so, it might get out that we
didn’t treat her well. You know how absurdly people will talk, sometimes.
Can’t you think of some one else we can call in?”
“Well, I d-o-n’-t know. Let me see. Why, yes, there’s that young fellow
who has stuck up his shingle a few doors off from the office. Foreigner,
I believe. Hasn’t any too much custom, should judge. Might get him.”
“A foreigner. Oh, yes; that will do very well.”
In half an hour the young physician rang the door-bell. He was shown up
to the attic by Katrine. As he mounted the stairs, a pitiful little wail
came floating down:
“Oh, Julien, Julien, tu es bien longtemps à venir. Helas! ne te
reverrai-je plus?”[5]
Madame, waiting below, wondered if the stranger wasn’t “some exiled
nobleman, he looks so distinguished. Rather seedy, though.”
Soon she grew impatient.
“What is he keeping me so long in suspense for, I should like to know?”
When he came down at last, his eyes burned like hot coals, and he had
for her questions never a word of answer. He walked swiftly away, and
returned with a carriage before she had recovered from her amazement.
Still speechless, he again made his way to the attic, and when he
descended this time he bore something in his arms very tenderly.
It was little Julie, wrapped in his cloak.
“You are behaving very strangely, sir! What are you doing? Where are you
taking her?”
“Where she will be cared for, rest assured!”
“What do you mean, sir?” cried madame, following down the steps. “Do you
dare insinuate that she wouldn’t be cared for here? I want to know what
right you have to be meddling with that child?”
“The best right in the world, madame—a brother’s right.” To the coachman:
“Drive on!” and the carriage rolled away.
A passing glimpse of a tiny, fever-flushed face, wild, unconscious,
restless eyes, and lips that moved continually, was the last madame saw
of the “delicate little creature” she had “adopted” for a nurse-girl.
When she had recovered breath and collected her scattered wits, she put
on her shawl and bonnet, and went down town to the office.
“Dolf, what’s that young doctor’s name, do you know?”
“Name? Never noticed, ’pon my word. Why?”
“It’s out there on his door, or somewhere, isn’t it? Just step out and
see, please.”
“Leblanc,” said “Dolf,” returning.
“Leblanc—Leblanc ... yes, and that’s the child’s name, now I recall it.
Do you know, he’s her brother!”
The next place madame visited was the jeweler’s. She was very glad she
had not purchased the watered silk or the Brussels carpet, and that the
silver service had not yet been sent up to the house.
“Mr. Forsyth,” she said, laying a roll of bank-notes on the counter,
“I regret our little transaction yesterday. I prefer to keep the cross
myself.”
“Well—a—hem!—a bargain’s a bargain, you know.”
“Oh, don’t talk to me about ‘bargains’! we’re old acquaintances. I want
that cross. I _must_ have it.”
The jeweler colored, and coughed, and objected. But madame was obstinate.
Finally, as they were “old acquaintances,” and as madame’s husband
was a lawyer, and as he hadn’t told her anywhere near the full value
of the cross, he yielded—on one condition—that it should remain a few
days longer in his show-case. It added greatly to the display there,
especially since a card had been attached to it, reading thus: