"With the greatest pleasure, madame," was the ready response.
"I thank you for your willingness to oblige me."
"Does madame la comtesse wish me to get the necessary writing materials for her?"
"A thousand thanks, mademoiselle," replied the poor mother, though she longed to accept her daughter's offer so she might keep her with her as long as possible. "I will ring for some one. I am loath to give you so much trouble."
"It is no trouble to me, madame. I will gladly get the necessary materials if you will tell me where to find them."
"Over there, on that table near the piano, mademoiselle. I must also ask you to have the goodness to light a candle,—the light from the lamp is not enough. But really I am trespassing entirely too much upon your good nature," added Madame de Beaumesnil, as her daughter lighted a candle and brought the necessary writing materials to the bedside.
The countess having taken a sheet of paper and laid it upon a blotting-case placed upon her knees, accepted a pen from the hand of Herminie, who was holding the candle in the other.
Madame de Beaumesnil tried to write a few words, but her extreme weakness, together with her failing sight, compelled her to desist from her efforts; the pen dropped from her trembling fingers, and, sinking back upon her pillows, the countess said to Herminie, with a forced smile:
"I am not as strong as I thought, so I shall be obliged to accept your kind offer, mademoiselle."
"Madame la comtesse has been in bed so long that she should not be surprised to find herself a little weak," responded Herminie, anxious to reassure Madame de Beaumesnil and herself as well.