“What is his name?”

“Doctor Herrenschwand.”

“What is he doing here?  I knew him at Paris; he was Madame du Rumain’s doctor.”

“That is his brother.  Now find out some polite complaint, which will do you credit with the public.  It will be easy enough to find a house, and I will get you an excellent cook to make your gruel and beef-tea.”

The choice of a complaint cost me some thought; I had to give it a good deal of attention.  The same evening I managed to communicate my plan to Madame who approved of it.  I begged her to think of some way of writing to me, and she said she would.

“My husband,” said she, “has a very high opinion of you.  He has taken no offence at our coming in the same carriage.  But tell me, was it an accident or design that made M. de Chavigni take my husband and leave us together?”

“It was the result of design, dearest.”  She raised her beautiful eyes and bit her lips.  “Are you sorry it was so?”

“Alas! no.”

In three or four days, on the day on which we were going to act L’Ecossaise, the doctor came to dine with the ambassador and stayed till the evening to see the play.  At dessert he complimented me on my good health, on which I took the opportunity, and told him that appearances were deceitful, and that I should be glad to consult him the next day.  No doubt he was delighted to be deceived in his estimate of my health, and he said he should be glad if he could be of any service.  He called on me at the hour agreed upon, and I told him such symptoms as my fancy dictated; amongst other things, that I was subject to certain nocturnal irritations which made me extremely weak, especially in the reins.

“Quite so, quite so; it’s a troublesome thing, but we will see what can be done.  My first remedy, which you may possibly not care much for, is for you to pass six weeks in the country, where you will not see those objects which impress your brain, acting on the seventh pair of nerves, and causing that lumbar discharge which no doubt leaves you in a very depressed state.”

“Yes, it certainly does.”

“Quite so, quite so.  My next remedy is cold bathing.”

“Are the baths far from here?”

“They are wherever you like.  I will write you a prescription, and the druggist will make it up.”

I thanked him, and after he had pouched the double-louis I slipped politely into his hand, he went away assuring me that I should soon experience an improvement in my health.  By the evening the whole town knew that I was ill and had to go into the country.  M. de Chavigni said pleasantly at dinner to the doctor, that he should have forbidden me all feminine visitors; and my lame friend, refining on the idea, added that I should above all be debarred access to certain portraits, of which I had a box-full.  I laughed approvingly, and begged M. de Chavigni, in the presence of the company, to help me to find a pretty house and a good cook, as I did not intend to take my meals alone.