"Only get into the carriage, my dear father, while I speak with her."
"Get in before a lady? No—no! We are not backwoodsmen,—are we? Come, Madeleine, come!"
Madeleine saw that argument would not avail with the count; his mind was not sufficiently clear; it only had glimpses of reason which allowed him to comprehend by fits and starts.
Ever quick of decision, she said cheerfully, "Yes, in one moment," and withdrew; but before Maurice had divined her intention, returned, wearing her bonnet and shawl, and sprang into the carriage.
"Drive into the country," was Madeleine's order to the coachman.
Maurice looked at her with inquiring surprise.
"Dr. Bayard said a drive would do your father good. We can first take a short drive, then return, and go to the hotel."
Count Tristan looked happy. The motion of the carriage was agreeable to him, and the fresh air revived him; he gazed eagerly out of the window as though the commonest objects had caught the charm of novelty. His pleasure was of brief duration; for when they had driven about a mile, prudence suggested to Madeleine that it would be well to return before the patient became fatigued. She pulled the check-cord, and herself gave the order, "To Brown's hotel."
Count Tristan paid no attention to the command. The hotel was quickly reached; the carriage stopped; Maurice descended and handed out his father.
"Let me hear good news of you," said Madeleine to Count Tristan, encouragingly, and kept her seat.