"Is there anything the matter ?" asked she.
"Not yet," answered he, "but there may be, for I hear that Mademoiselle de Mussidan is dangerously ill." "Is she really?
Poor Sabine! what is the matter with her ?" "I do not know; and I want you, Clotilde, to send one of your people to inquire into the truth of what we have heard." Madame de Bois Arden opened her eyes very wide.
"Are you joking ?" said she.

"Why do you not send yourself ?" "It is impossible for me to do so; and if you have any kindness of heart, you do as I ask you; and I want you also to promise me not to say a word of this to any one." Excited as she was by this mystery, Madame de Bois Arden did not ask another question.
"I will do exactly what you want," replied she, "and respect your secret.

I would go at once, were it not that Bois Arden will never sit down to dinner without me; but the moment we have finished I will go." "Thanks, a thousand times; and now I will go home and wait for news from you." "Not at all,--you will remain here to dinner." "I must,--I have a friend waiting for me." "Do as you please, then," returned the Viscountess, laughing.

"I will send round a note this evening." De Breulh pressed her hand, and hurried down, and was met by Andre at the door, for he had been unable to sit still in the carriage.
"Keep up your courage.

Madame de Bois Arden had not heard of Mademoiselle Sabine's illness, and this looks as if it was not a very serious matter.