dropped the book she had been perusing, and gave vent to an exclamation
of delight. "Ah, doctor, this is really very kind of you;" and at the
same time signed to the servant to place a chair for the visitor.

The Countess was tall and slender, and at forty-five had the figure of
a girl. She had an abundance of fair hair, the color of which concealed
the silver threads which plentifully interspersed it. A subtle perfume
hung about her, and her pale blue eyes were full of pride and cold
disdain.

"You know how to time your visits so well, doctor!" said she. "I am
thoroughly bored, and am utterly weary of books, for it always seems to
me, when I read, that I had perused the same thing before somewhere or
other. You have arrived at so opportune a moment, that you appear to be
a favorite of timely chance."

The doctor was indeed a favorite of chance; but the name of the chance
was Baptiste Mascarin.

"I see so few visitors," continued Madame de Mussidan, "that hardly any
one comes to see me. I must really set aside one day in the week for my
at home; for when I do happen to stay at home, I feel fearfully dull
and lonely. For two mortal hours I have been in this room. I have been
nursing the Count."

The doctor knew better than this; but he smiled pleasantly, and said,
"Perfectly so," exactly at the right moment.

"Yes," continued the Countess, "my husband slipped on the stairs, and
hurt himself very much. Our doctor says it is nothing; but then I put