Her uncle was no longer there. His stroke of paralysis had frightened
the proprietor who suggested his removal to a private hospital, but M.
Dobronowska had preferred to be attended to in the house, a little out
of St. Denis, of an acquaintance. It was Mr. Lesperon's, the abode of a
once noted poetess, whose husband had enjoyed Dobronowska's hospitality
in Finland and who had tried to repay the obligation.

Césarine recalled the name; this lady had been a friend of her aunt's
and she felt she would not be intruding. After playing the nurse, by
which means she could ascertain whether she would be remembered
generously in the patient's will, she could continue her flight or
retrace her steps.

Under cover of Hedwig, she could learn, secretly if she preferred it,
all that occurred at Montmorency. She found her grand-uncle broken with
age and serious attack; he was delighted by her beauty and to hear that
she was so happy in her married life! Evidently he was rich, and she had
not acted foolishly in going to see him.

Madame Lesperon and her husband recalled her grandmother--whose death
she did not describe--and her aunt, over whose fate they politely
blurred the rather lurid tints. Madame Lesperon, as became a poetess,
saw the loveliness of Clemenceau's idea of separation in marrying his
cousin and expressed a wish to compliment him face-to-face. Césarine was
not so sure that he would come to town to escort her home, he was so
engrossed in an important project.

She let three days pass without writing a line, alleging that she had
not the heart while her dear uncle was in danger and that her husband