A Love Episode | Page 7

Emile Zola
once more, and she fell asleep again,
murmuring tenderly: "I'm going to by-by. Good-night, mamma, dear. If
he is your friend he will be mine."
The doctor had removed his medicine-case, and, with a silent bow, he

left the room. Helene listened for a while to the child's breathing, and
then, seated on the edge of the bed, she became oblivious to everything
around her; her looks and thoughts wandering far away. The lamp, still
burning, was paling in the growing sunlight.
CHAPTER II.
Next day Helene thought it right and proper to pay a visit of thanks to
Doctor Deberle. The abrupt fashion in which she had compelled him to
follow her, and the remembrance of the whole night which he had spent
with Jeanne, made her uneasy, for she realized that he had done more
than is usually compassed within a doctor's visit. Still, for two days she
hesitated to make her call, feeling a strange repugnance towards such a
step. For this she could give herself no reasons. It was the doctor
himself who inspired her with this hesitancy; one morning she met him,
and shrunk from his notice as though she were a child. At this excess of
timidity she was much annoyed. Her quiet, upright nature protested
against the uneasiness which was taking possession of her. She decided,
therefore, to go and thank the doctor that very day.
Jeanne's attack had taken place during the small hours of Wednesday
morning; it was now Saturday, and the child was quite well again.
Doctor Bodin, whose fears concerning her had prompted him to make
an early call, spoke of Doctor Deberle with the respect that an old
doctor with a meagre income pays to another in the same district, who
is young, rich, and already possessed of a reputation. He did not forget
to add, however, with an artful smile, that the fortune had been
bequeathed by the elder Deberle, a man whom all Passy held in
veneration. The son had only been put to the trouble of inheriting
fifteen hundred thousand francs, together with a splendid practice. "He
is, though, a very smart fellow," Doctor Bodin hastened to add, "and I
shall be honored by having a consultation with him about the precious
health of my little friend Jeanne!"
About three o'clock Helene made her way downstairs with her daughter,
and had to take but a few steps along the Rue Vineuse before ringing at
the next-door house. Both mother and daughter still wore deep

mourning. A servant, in dress-coat and white tie, opened the door.
Helene easily recognized the large entrance-hall, with its Oriental
hangings; on each side of it, however, there were now flower-stands,
brilliant with a profusion of blossoms. The servant having admitted
them to a small drawing-room, the hangings and furniture of which
were of a mignonette hue, stood awaiting their pleasure, and Helene
gave her name--Madame Grandjean.
Thereupon the footman pushed open the door of a drawing-room,
furnished in yellow and black, of dazzling effect, and, moving aside,
announced:
"Madame Grandjean!"
Helene, standing on the threshold, started back. She had just noticed at
the other end of the room a young woman seated near the fireplace on a
narrow couch which was completely covered by her ample skirts.
Facing her sat an elderly person, who had retained her bonnet and
shawl, and was evidently paying a visit.
"I beg pardon," exclaimed Helene. "I wished to see Doctor Deberle."
She had made the child enter the room before her, and now took her by
the hand again. She was both astonished and embarrassed in meeting
this young lady. Why had she not asked for the doctor? She well knew
he was married.
Madame Deberle was just finishing some story, in a quick and rather
shrill voice.
"Oh! it's marvellous, marvellous! She dies with wonderful realism. She
clutches at her bosom like this, throws back her head, and her face turns
green. I declare you ought to see her, Mademoiselle Aurelie!"
Then, rising up, she sailed towards the doorway, rustling her skirts
terribly.
"Be so kind as to walk in, madame," she said with charming

graciousness. "My husband is not at home, but I shall be delighted to
receive you, I assure you. This must be the pretty little girl who was so
ill a few nights ago. Sit down for a moment, I beg of you."
Helene was forced to accept the invitation, while Jeanne timidly
perched herself on the edge of another chair. Madame Deberle again
sank down on her little sofa, exclaiming with a pretty laugh,
"Yes, this is my day. I receive every Saturday, you see, and Pierre then
announces all comers. A week or two ago he ushered in a colonel
suffering from the gout."
"How silly you are, my dear
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