‘God will take mercy upon her,’ he said.

‘God!  God!’ muttered the doctor below his breath.  ’Ah!  He would do better not to interfere.  We might manage matters if we were left to ourselves.’  Then, raising his voice, he added:  ’I thought I had considered everything carefully, that is the most wonderful part of it.  Oh! what a fool I was!  You would stay there, I thought, for a month to recover your strength.  The shade of the trees, the cheerful chatter of the girl, all the youthfulness about you would quickly bring you round.  And then you, on your side, it seemed to me, would do something to reclaim the poor child from her wild ways; you would civilise her, and, between us, we should turn her into a young lady, for whom we should, by-and-by, find a suitable husband.  It seemed such a perfect scheme.  And then how was I to guess that old philosophising Jeanbernat would never stir an inch from his lettuce-beds?  Well! well!  I myself never left my own laboratory.  I had such pressing work there. . . .  And it is all my fault!  Ah!  I am a stupid bungler!’

He was choking, and wished to go off.  And he began to look about him for his hat, though, all the while, he had it on his head.

‘Good-bye!’ he stammered; ’I am going.  So you won’t come?  Do, now—­for my sake!  You see how miserable, how upset I am.  I swear to you that she shall go away immediately afterwards.  That is all settled.  My gig is here; you might be back in an hour.  Come, do come, I beg you.’

The priest made a sweeping gesture; such a gesture as the doctor had seen him make before the altar.

‘No,’ he said, ‘I cannot.’

Then, as he accompanied his uncle out of the room, he added: 

’Tell her to fall on her knees and pray to God.  God will hear her as He heard me, and He will comfort her as He has comforted me.  There is no other means of salvation.’

The doctor looked him full in the face, and shrugged his shoulders.

‘Good-bye, then,’ he repeated.  ’You are quite well now, and have no further need of me.’

But, as he was unfastening his horse, Desiree, who had heard his voice, came running up.  She was extremely attached to her uncle.  When she had been younger he had been wont to listen to her childish prattle for hours without showing the least sign of weariness.  And, even now, he did his best to spoil her, and manifested the greatest interest in her farmyard, often spending a whole afternoon with her amongst her fowls and ducks, and smiling at her with his bright eyes.  He seemed to consider her superior to other girls.  And so she now flung herself round his neck, in an impulse of affection, and cried: 

‘Aren’t you going to stay and have some lunch with us?’

But having kissed her, he said he could not remain, and unfastened her arms from his neck with a somewhat pettish air.  She laughed however, and again clasped her arms round him.