best of my way home.




CHAPTER LII.

Illi mors gravis incubat
Qui notus nimis omnibus
Ignotus moritus sibi.
--Seneca.

Nous serons par nos lois les juges
des ouvrages.
--Les Femmes Savantes.

Vincent called on me the next day. "I have news for you," said he,
"though somewhat of a lugubrious nature. Lugete Veneres Cupidinesque. You
remember the Duchesse de Perpignan!"

"I should think so," was my answer.

"Well then," pursued Vincent, "she is no more. Her death was worthy of
her life. She was to give a brilliant entertainment to all the foreigners
at Paris: the day before it took place a dreadful eruption broke over her
complexion. She sent for the doctors in despair. 'Cure me against to-
morrow,' she said, 'and name your own reward.' 'Madame, it is impossible
to do so with safety to your health.' 'Au diable! with your health,' said
the duchesse, 'what is health to an eruption?' The doctors took the hint;
an external application was used--the duchesse woke in the morning as