“At least, doctor, you can assure me that the dear child’s life is not in danger?”
“No, madame,” answered Dr. Raget with cutting irony, “your maternal tenderness need not be alarmed. All the poor child needs is rest of mind, which you alone can give her. A few kind words from you will do her more good than all of my prescriptions. But remember, madame, that the least shock or nervous excitement will produce the most fatal consequences.”
“I am aware of that,” said the hypocritical countess, “and shall be very careful. I must confess that I was unable to control my anger upon first hearing your announcement.”
“But now that the first shock is over, madame, being a mother and a Christian, you will do your duty. My duty is to save your daughter and her child. I will call to-morrow.”
Mme. de la Verberie had no idea of having the doctor go off in this way. She called him back, and, without reflecting that she was betraying herself, cried out:
“Do you pretend to say, monsieur, that you will prevent my taking every means to conceal this terrible misfortune that has fallen upon me? Do you wish our shame to be made public, to make me the laughing-stock of the neighborhood?”
The doctor reflected without answering; the condition of affairs was grave.
“No, madame,” he finally said; “I cannot prevent your leaving La Verberie: that would be overstepping my powers. But it is my duty to hold you to account for the child. You are at liberty to go where you please; but you must give me proof of the child’s living, or at least that no attempts have been made against its life.”
After uttering these threatening words he left the house, and it was in good time; for the countess was choking with suppressed rage.
“Insolent upstart!” she said, “to presume to dictate to a woman of my rank! Ah, if I were not completely at his mercy!”