He repeated that he would endeavour to secure the requisite permission,
and that, if necessary, he would apply to Father Fourcade in person.

"Then, till this evening, darling," said M. de Guersaint, kissing his
daughter. And he and Pierre went off together, leaving her lying on her
bed, with an absorbed expression on her features, as her large, smiling
eyes wandered away into space.

It was barely half-past ten when they got back to the Hotel of the
Apparitions; but M. de Guersaint, whom the fine weather delighted, talked
of having /dejeuner/ at once, so that he might the sooner start upon a
ramble through Lourdes. First of all, however, he wished to go up to his
room, and Pierre following him, they encountered quite a drama on their
way. The door of the room occupied by the Vignerons was wide open, and
little Gustave could be seen lying on the sofa which served as his bed.
He was livid; a moment previously he had suddenly fainted, and this had
made the father and mother imagine that the end had come. Madame Vigneron
was crouching on a chair, still stupefied by her fright, whilst M.
Vigneron rushed about the room, thrusting everything aside in order that
he might prepare a glass of sugared-water, to which he added a few drops
of some elixir. This draught, he exclaimed, would set the lad right
again. But all the same, it was incomprehensible. The boy was still
strong, and to think that he should have fainted like that, and have
turned as white as a chicken! Speaking in this wise, M. Vigneron glanced
at Madame Chaise, the aunt, who was standing in front of the sofa,
looking in good health that morning; and his hands shook yet more
violently at the covert idea that if that stupid attack had carried off
his son, they would no longer have inherited the aunt's fortune. He was
quite beside himself at this thought, and eagerly opening the boy's mouth
he compelled him to swallow the entire contents of the glass. Then,