"When a child is suffering, her mother comes to suffer in her stead, so that the little one may not suffer any more, is it not so?" she inquired, gravely.
Astonished at this reasoning, I looked at her attentively without replying. She continued:
"I wish to suffer in my mother's place, take me to the doctor."
This childish trait, which, under other circumstances, would have made me smile, gave me a heart pang, and I kissed Irene to conceal my tears.
THE GROVE, 17th May, 18—.
There is hope; the delirium ceases; an alarming prostration has followed. Doctor Ralph dreaded the heat of her fevered blood. Now he fears excessive languor, heart failure.
Her consciousness has returned. Her first utterance was her child's name.
The nurse told me that the doctor had not yet allowed Irene to go near her mother.
Twenty times have I been on the point of asking Madame Paul if Catherine had inquired after me, but I dared not.
THE GROVE, 18th May, 18—.