in the midst of which the nurse returned, and finding her baby was gone,
went into violent hysterics, while the young baroness, with flying hair
and dilated eyes, rushed about, wringing her hands, and looking, as she
felt, distracted with grief.

The search was, of course, in vain, and they were just coming to the
conclusion that the baby had been stolen, when the baron returned from
seeing Léon off.

The moment the baroness heard his voice in the hall she flew down the
wide oak staircase, crying, "Arnaud! Arnaud! My precious baby is gone,
it is stolen; find her, find her, or I shall go mad." And a glance at
her wild eyes almost testified she spoke the truth.

"She is not stolen, she is safe enough," said the baron, sulkily.

"Safe? Where? Where? Take me to her, my precious one; where is she?"
cried the baroness, with a loud burst of hysteric laughter on hearing
her child was safe.

"Silence, Mathilde, don't behave in this ridiculous style. Come with
me," said the baron, in a tone his wife had never heard him use to her
before, and which had the effect of reducing her to tears; and, sobbing
wildly, she hung on her husband's arm as he half led, half carried her
upstairs, and laid her on a sofa in her own room.

"Now, Mathilde, if you will try and compose yourself, I will tell you
what I have done with the baby. For some time I have felt sure that you
were ruining the child's health by the absurd way in which you coddle it
up, and, moreover, making yourself a perfect slave to it, neglecting all