Half an hour or an hour passed; Georgette murmured in her soft lisp that she was growing sleepy.

"And you _shall_ sleep," thought I, "malgre maman and medecin, if they are not here in ten minutes." Hark! There was the ring, and there the tread, astonishing the staircase by the fleetness with which it left the steps behind.

Rosine introduced Dr.John, and, with a freedom of manner not altogether peculiar to herself, but characteristic of the domestics of Villette generally, she stayed to hear what he had to say.

Madame's presence would have awed her back to her own realm of the vestibule and the cabinet--for mine, or that of any other teacher or pupil, she cared not a jot.

Smart, trim and pert, she stood, a hand in each pocket of her gay grisette apron, eyeing Dr.John with no more fear or shyness than if he had been a picture instead of a living gentleman.
"Le marmot n'a rien, nest-ce pas ?" said she, indicating Georgette with a jerk of her chin.
"Pas beaucoup," was the answer, as the doctor hastily scribbled with his pencil some harmless prescription.
"Eh bien!" pursued Rosine, approaching him quite near, while he put up his pencil.