"My dear fellow, we are very unhappy," said M. Mauperin, one evening, a
few days later, to Denoisel, who had just jumped down from a hired trap.
"I had a presentiment you would come to-day," he went on. "She is asleep
now; you'll see her to-morrow. Oh, you'll find her very much changed.
But you must be hungry," and he led the way to the dining-room, where
supper was being laid for him.
"Oh, M. Mauperin," said Denoisel, "she is young. At her age something
can always be done."
M. Mauperin put his elbows on the table and great tears rolled slowly
from his eyes.
"Oh, come, come, M. Mauperin; the doctors haven't given her up; there's
hope yet."
M. Mauperin shook his head and did not answer, but his tears continued
to flow.
"They haven't given her up?"
"Yes, they have," said M. Mauperin, who could not contain himself any
longer, "and I didn't want to have to tell you. One is afraid of
everything, you see, when it comes to this stage. It seems to me that
there are certain words which would bring the very thing about, and to
own this, why, I fancied it would kill my child. And then, too, there
might be a miracle. Why shouldn't there be? They spoke of miracles--the
doctors did. Oh, God! She still gets up, you know; it's a great thing,
that she can get up. The last two days there has been an improvement, I
think. And then to lose two in a year--it would be too terrible. Oh,
that would be too much! But there, eat, man, you are not eating
anything," and he put a large piece of meat on Denoisel's plate. "Well,
well, we must bear up and be men; that's all we can do. What's the
latest news in Paris?"
"There isn't any; at least, I don't know any. I've come straight from
the Pyrenees. Mme. Davarande read me one of your letters; but she is far
from thinking her so ill."
"Have you no news of Barousse?"
"Oh, yes! I met him on the way to the station. I wanted to bring him
with me, but you know what Barousse is; nothing in the world would
induce him to leave Paris for a week. He must take his morning walk
along the quays. The idea of missing an engraving with its full
margin----"
"And the Bourjots?" asked M. Mauperin with an effort.
"They say that Mlle. Bourjot will never marry."
"Poor child, she loved him."
"As to the mother, it is the saddest thing--it appears it's an awful
ending--there are rumours of strange things--madness, in fact. There's
some talk of sending her to a private asylum."