There was at once so much analogy, and such contradiction, between the object of this letter, written just before by Adrienne’s most implacable enemy, and these words of commiseration which she spoke in a touching voice, that Dr. Baleinier himself could not help being struck with it.  He looked at Mdlle. de Cardoville with an almost embarrassed air, as he replied:  “I am indeed speaking of one of my patients, who counts much upon me—­a great deal too much—­for he asks me to do an impossibility.  But why do you feel so interested in an unknown person?”

“If he is unfortunate, I know enough to interest me.  The person for whom I ask your assistance with the minister, was quite as little known to me; and now I take the deepest interest in him.  I must tell you, that he is the son of the worthy soldier who brought Marshal Simon’s daughters from the heart of Siberia.”

“What! he is—­”

“An honest workman, the support of his family; but I must tell you all about it—­this is how the affair took place.”

The confidential communication which Adrienne was going to make to the doctor, was cut short by Madame Saint-Dizier, who, followed by M. d’Aigrigny, opened abruptly the door.  An expression of infernal joy, hardly concealed beneath a semblance of extreme indignation, was visible in her countenance.

M. d’Aigrigny threw rapidly, as he entered the apartment, an inquiring and anxious glance at M. Baleinier.  The doctor answered by a shake of the head.  The abbe bit his lips with silent rage; he had built his last hopes upon the doctor, and his projects seemed now forever annihilated, notwithstanding the new blow which the princess had in reserve for Adrienne.

“Gentlemen,” said Madame de Saint-Dizier, in a sharp, hurried voice, for she was nearly choking with wicked pleasure, “gentlemen, pray be seated!  I have some new and curious things to tell you, on the subject of this young lady.”  She pointed to her niece, with a look of ineffable hatred and disdain.

“My poor child, what is the matter now?” said M. Baleinier, in a soft, wheedling tone, before he left the window where he was standing with Adrienne.  “Whatever happens, count upon me!”—­And the physician went to seat himself between M. d’Aigrigny and M. Tripeaud.

At her aunt’s insolent address, Mdlle. de Cardoville had proudly lined her head.  The blood rushed to her face, and irritated at the new attacks with which she was menaced, she advanced to the table where the princess was seated, and said in an agitated voice to M. Baleinier:  “I shall expect you to call on me as soon as possible, my dear doctor.  You know that I wish particularly to speak with you.”

Adrienne made one step towards the arm-chair, on which she had left her hat.  The princess rose abruptly, and exclaimed:  “What are you doing, madame?”

“I am about to retire.  Your highness has expressed to me your will, and I have told you mine.  It is enough.”