I shall call on Dr. John, and send him to the child. I will that he sees her this very evening; her cheeks are flushed, her pulse is quick: you will receive him—for my part, I shall be from home."
Now the child was well enough, only warm with the warmth of July; it was scarcely less needful to send for a priest to administer extreme unction than for a doctor to prescribe a dose; also madame rarely made "courses" as she called them, in the evening: moreover, this was the first time she had chosen to absent herself on the occasion of a visit from Dr. John. The whole arrangement indicated some plan; this I saw, but without the least anxiety. "Ha! ha! madame," laughed Light-heart the Beggar, "your crafty wits are on the wrong tack."
She departed, attired very smartly in a shawl of price, and a certain chapeau vert tendre—hazardous, as to its tint, for any complexion less fresh than her own, but, to her, not unbecoming. I wondered what she intended: whether she really would send Dr. John or not; or whether indeed he would come: he might be engaged.
Madame had charged me not to let Georgette sleep till the doctor came; I had therefore sufficient occupation in telling her nursery tales and palaver-
