popular practitioners of Paris.

A doctor has in some sort a priesthood of his own. Admitted at all hours
to the most secret intimacy of families, he knows, guesses, and is able
to effect much. Like the priest, in short, he has the ear of the sick and
the dying. Now, when he who cares for the health of the body, and he who
takes charge of the health of the soul, understands each other, and
render mutual aid for the advancement of a common interest, there is
nothing (with certain exceptions), which they may not extract from the
weakness and fears of a sick man at the last gasp--not for themselves
(the laws forbid it)--but for third parties belonging more or less to the
very convenient class of men of straw. Doctor Baleinier was therefore one
of the most active and valuable assistant members of the Paris Jesuits.

When he entered the room, he hastened to kiss the princess's hand with
the most finished gallantry.

"Always punctual, my dear M. Baleinier."

"Always eager and happy to attend to your highness's orders." Then
turning towards the marquis, whose hand he pressed cordially, he added:
"Here we have you then at last. Do you know, that three months' absence
appears very long to your friends?"

"The time is as long to the absent as to those who remain, my dear
doctor. Well! here is the great day. Mdlle. de Cardoville is coming."

"I am not quite easy," said the princess; "suppose she had any suspicion?"

"That's impossible," said M. Baleinier; "we are the best friends in the