“By-the-bye, the princess knows,” resumed the doctor, “that I have often pursued this plan at St. Mary’s Convent, to the great advantage of the soul’s peace and health of some of our patients, being extremely innocent.  These alternations never exceed the difference between ’pretty well,’ and ‘not quite so well.’  Yet small as are the variations, they act most efficaciously on certain minds.  It was thus with Madame de la Sainte-Colombe.  She was in such a fair way of recovery, both moral and physical, that Rodin thought he might get Philippon to advise the country for his penitent, fearing that Paris air might occasion a relapse.  This advice, added to the desire the woman had to play ‘lady of the parish,’ induced her to buy Cardoville Manor, a good investment in any respect.  But yesterday, unfortunate Philippon came to tell me, that Madame de la Sainte-Colombe was about to have an awful relapse—­moral, of course—­for her physical health is now desperately good.  The said relapse appears to have been occasioned by an interview she has had with one Jacques Dumoulin, whom they tell me you know, my dear abbe; he has introduced himself to her, nobody can guess how.”

“This Jacques Dumoulin,” said the marquis, with disgust, “is one of those men, that we employ while we despise.  He is a writer full of gall, envy, and hate, qualities that give him a certain unmercifully cutting eloquence.  We pay him largely to attack our enemies, though it is often painful to see principles we respect defended by such a pen.  For this wretch lives like a vagabond—­is constantly in taverns—­almost always intoxicated—­but, I must own, his power of abuse is inexhaustible, and he is well versed in the most abstruse theological controversies, so that he is sometimes very useful to us.”

“Well! though Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is hard upon sixty, it appears that Dumoulin has matrimonial views on her large fortune.  You will do well to inform Rodin, so that he may be on his guard against the dark designs of this rascal.  I really beg a thousand pardons for having so long occupied you with such a paltry affair—­but, talking of St. Mary’s Convent,” added the doctor, addressing the princess, “may I take the liberty of asking if your highness has been there lately?”

The princess exchanged a rapid glance with D’Aigrigny, and answered:  “Oh, let me see!  Yes, I was there about a week ago.”

“You will find great changes then.  The wall that was next to my asylum has been taken down, for they are going to build anew wing and a chapel, the old one being too small.  I must say in praise of Mdlle.  Adrienne” continued the doctor with a singular smile aside, “that she promised me a copy of one of Raphael’s Madonnas for this chapel.”

“Really? very appropriate!” said the princess.  “But here it is almost noon, and M. Tripeaud has not come.”

“He is the deputy-guardian of Mdlle. de Cardoville, whose property he has managed, as former agent of the count-duke,” said the marquis, with evident anxiety, “and his presence here is absolutely indispensable.  It is greatly to be desired that his coming should precede that of Mdlle. de Cardoville, who may be here at any moment.”