“No, doctor.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, dear friend.  But this is very near my heart,” faltered Josephine.

The doctor sighed; then said gently, “They shall be happy:  as happy as you wish them.”

Meantime, in another room, a reconciliation scene was taking place, and the mutual concessions of two impetuous but generous spirits.

The baroness noticed the change in Josephine’s appearance.

She asked Rose what could be the matter.

“Some passing ailment,” was the reply.

“Passing?  She has been so, on and off, a long time.  She makes me very anxious.”

Rose made light of it to her mother, but in her own heart she grew more and more anxious day by day.  She held secret conferences with Jacintha; that sagacious personage had a plan to wake Josephine from her deathly languor, and even soothe her nerves, and check those pitiable fits of nervous irritation to which she had become subject.  Unfortunately, Jacintha’s plan was so difficult and so dangerous, that at first even the courageous Rose recoiled from it; but there are dangers that seem to diminish when you look them long in the face.

The whole party was seated in the tapestried room:  Jacintha was there, sewing a pair of sheets, at a respectful distance from the gentlefolks, absorbed in her work; but with both ears on full cock.

The doctor, holding his glasses to his eye, had just begun to read out the Moniteur.

The baroness sat close to him, Edouard opposite; and the young ladies each in her corner of a large luxurious sofa, at some little distance.

“’The Austrians left seventy cannon, eight thousand men, and three colors upon the field.  Army of the North:  General Menard defeated the enemy after a severe engagement, taking thirteen field-pieces and a quantity of ammunition.’”

The baroness made a narrow-minded renmark.  “That is always the way with these journals,” said she.  “Austrians!  Prussians! when it’s Egypt one wants to hear about.”—­“No, not a word about Egypt,” said the doctor; “but there is a whole column about the Rhine, where Colonel Dujardin is—­and Dard.  If I was dictator, the first nuisance I would put down is small type.”  He then spelled out a sanguinary engagement:  “eight thousand of the enemy killed.  We have some losses to lament.  Colonel Dujardin”—­

“Only wounded, I hope,” said the baroness.

The doctor went coolly on.  “At the head of the 24th brigade made a brilliant charge on the enemy’s flank, that is described in the general order as having decided the fate of the battle.”

“How badly you do read,” said the old lady, sharply.  “I thought he was gone; instead of that he has covered himself with glory; but it is all our doing, is it not, young ladies?  We saved his life.”

“We saved it amongst us, madame.”

“What is the matter, Rose?” said Edouard.