her name--Madame Grandjean.

Thereupon the footman pushed open the door of a drawing-room,
furnished in yellow and black, of dazzling effect, and, moving aside,
announced:

"Madame Grandjean!"

Helene, standing on the threshold, started back. She had just noticed
at the other end of the room a young woman seated near the fireplace
on a narrow couch which was completely covered by her ample skirts.
Facing her sat an elderly person, who had retained her bonnet and
shawl, and was evidently paying a visit.

"I beg pardon," exclaimed Helene. "I wished to see Doctor Deberle."

She had made the child enter the room before her, and now took her by
the hand again. She was both astonished and embarrassed in meeting
this young lady. Why had she not asked for the doctor? She well knew
he was married.

Madame Deberle was just finishing some story, in a quick and rather
shrill voice.

"Oh! it's marvellous, marvellous! She dies with wonderful realism. She
clutches at her bosom like this, throws back her head, and her face
turns green. I declare you ought to see her, Mademoiselle Aurelie!"

Then, rising up, she sailed towards the doorway, rustling her skirts
terribly.