it. You felt glad that nothing shaded the benevolence of his all-over
forehead. By contrast he emphasized the sullenness of my father; yet
when occasion had pressed there never was a readier hand than
Skenedonk's to kill.

I tossed the cover back to spring out of bed with a whoop. But a woman
in a high cap with ribbons hanging down to her heels, and a dress short
enough to show her shoes, stepped into the room and made a courtesy. Her
face fell easily into creases when she talked, and gave you the feeling
that it was too soft of flesh. Indeed, her eyes were cushioned all
around. She spoke and Skenedonk answered her in French. The meaning of
every word broke through my mind as fire breaks through paper.

"Madame de Ferrier sent me to inquire how the young gentleman is."

Skenedonk lessened the rims around his eyes. My father grunted.

"Did Madame de Ferrier say 'the young gentleman?'" Skenedonk inquired.

"I was told to inquire. I am her servant Ernestine," said the woman, her
face creased with the anxiety of responding to questions.

"Tell Madame de Ferrier that the young gentleman is much better, and
will go home to the lodges to-day."

"She said I was to wait upon him, and give him his breakfast under the
doctor's direction."

"Say with thanks to Madame de Ferrier that I wait upon him."