"Oh, no!" replied Fleur-de-Marie, with enthusiasm; "when I believed I was dying, my last thought was for him whom I so reverence, and to whom I owe so much, and, when I came to myself after you had saved me, my first thought was of him likewise."
"It is a pleasure to render you any service, you think so much of it."
"No, La Louve; the pleasure consists in falling asleep with our grateful recollection of kind acts, and remembering them upon waking!"
"Ah, you would induce people to go through fire and water to serve you! I'm sure I would, for one."
"I can assure you that one of the causes which made me thankful for life was the hope of being able to advance your happiness. Do you recollect the castles in the air we used to build at St. Lazare?"
"Oh, as for that, there is time enough to think about that."
"How delighted I should be, if the doctor would only allow me to write a few lines to Madame Georges, I am sure she must be so very uneasy; and so must M. Rodolph, too," added Fleur-de-Marie, pensively sighing. "Perhaps they think me dead."
"As those wretches do who were set on to murder you!"
"Then you still believe my falling into the water was not an accident?"
"Accident! Yes, one of the Martial family's accidents;—mind, when I say that, you must bear in mind that my Martial is not at all like the rest of his relations, any more than François and Amandine."