A Love Episode | Page 6

nearly an hour he remained there watching her,
as though awaiting the return of a healthy respiration. On the other side
of the bed Helene also waited, never moving a limb.
Little by little a great calm settled on Jeanne's face. The lamp cast a
sunny light upon it, and it regained its exquisite though somewhat
lengthy oval. Jeanne's fine eyes, now closed, had large, bluish,
transparent lids, which veiled--one could divine it--a sombre, flashing
glance. A light breathing came from her slender nose, while round her
somewhat large mouth played a vague smile. She slept thus, amidst her
outspread tresses, which were inky black.
"It has all passed away now," said the doctor in a whisper; and he
turned to arrange his medicine bottles prior to leaving.
"Oh, sir!" exclaimed Helene, approaching him, "don't leave me yet;
wait a few minutes. Another fit might come on, and you, you alone,
have saved her!"

He signed to her that there was nothing to fear; yet he tarried, with the
idea of tranquillizing her. She had already sent Rosalie to bed; and now
the dawn soon broke, still and grey, over the snow which whitened the
housetops. The doctor proceeded to close the window, and in the deep
quiet the two exchanged a few whispers.
"There is nothing seriously wrong with her, I assure you," said he;
"only with one so young great care must be taken. You must see that
her days are spent quietly and happily, and without shocks of any
kind."
"She is so delicate and nervous," replied Helene after a moment's pause.
"I cannot always control her. For the most trifling reasons she is so
overcome by joy or sorrow that I grow alarmed. She loves me with a
passion, a jealousy, which makes her burst into tears when I caress
another child."
"So, so--delicate, nervous, and jealous," repeated the doctor as he
shook his head. "Doctor Bodin has attended her, has he not? I'll have a
talk with him about her. We shall have to adopt energetic treatment.
She has reached an age that is critical in one of her sex."
Recognizing the interest he displayed, Helene gave vent to her gratitude.
"How I must thank you, sir, for the great trouble you have taken!"
The loudness of her tones frightened her, however; she might have
woke Jeanne, and she bent down over the bed. But no; the child was
sound asleep, with rosy cheeks, and a vague smile playing round her
lips. The air of the quiet chamber was charged with languor. The
whilom drowsiness, as if born again of relief, once more seized upon
the curtains, furniture, and littered garments. Everything was steeped
restfully in the early morning light as it entered through the two
windows.
Helene again stood up close to the bed; on the other side was the doctor,
and between them lay Jeanne, lightly sleeping.
"Her father was frequently ill," remarked Helene softly, continuing her

answer to his previous question. "I myself enjoy the best of health."
The doctor, who had not yet looked at her, raised his eyes, and could
scarcely refrain from smiling, so hale and hearty was she in every way.
She greeted his gaze with her own sweet and quiet smile. Her happiness
lay in her good health.
However, his looks were still bent on her. Never had he seen such
classical beauty. Tall and commanding, she was a nut-brown Juno, of a
nut-brown sunny with gleams of gold. When she slowly turned her
head, its profile showed the severe purity of a statue. Her grey eyes and
pearly teeth lit up her whole face. Her chin, rounded and somewhat
pronounced, proved her to be possessed of commonsense and firmness.
But what astonished the doctor was the superbness of her whole figure.
She stood there, a model of queenliness, chastity, and modesty.
On her side also she scanned him for a moment. Doctor Deberle's years
were thirty-five; his face was clean-shaven and a little long; he had
keen eyes and thin lips. As she gazed on him she noticed for the first
time that his neck was bare. Thus they remained face to face, with
Jeanne asleep between them. The distance which but a short time
before had appeared immense, now seemed to be dwindling away.
Then Helene slowly wrapped the shawl about her shoulders again,
while the doctor hastened to button his coat at the neck.
"Mamma! mamma!" Jeanne stammered in her sleep. She was waking,
and on opening her eyes she saw the doctor and became uneasy.
"Mamma, who's that?" was her instant question; but her mother kissed
her, and replied: "Go to sleep, darling, you haven't been well. It's only a
friend."
The child seemed surprised; she did not remember anything.
Drowsiness was coming over her