"And your brother—was he taken from the cholera hospital?" asked the doctor.
"No, sir," replied Maggie, rising and speaking in a whisper to the physician, so that Leo should not hear what she said. "André had to leave me all alone when he went to the shop, and he went to the almshouse to find a poor orphan to keep me company. He found Leo, whose father and mother had both died from drinking too much. He took him home, and mon père has been as good to him as he has to me."
"His name is Leo—the Lion?"
"No, sir; not the lion. Mon père called him Leopold, after the King of Belgium, in whose service he once was; but we always call him Leo. He is a real good boy, and will get the medal at his school this year."
"The carriage has come, sir," said Lawrence, opening the door.
The arrangements were made for the removal of the barber to his house. The hackman and the man servant came to carry him down stairs in an armchair, and the doctor was to go with his patient, and assist in disposing of him at his house. André was placed in the chair, covered with blankets, and the door opened in readiness to carry him down. Maggie kept close to him, comforting him with the kindest words, and adjusting the blanket so that the rude blasts of winter might not reach him.
"Lawrence!" called Elinora, in a petulant tone, from the dressing-room on the same floor.
Under the circumstances, Lawrence was not disposed to heed the call; but it was so often and so ill-naturedly repeated, that Dr. Fisher told him to go and see what she wanted, fearful that some accident had happened to her. The man went into the hall. Elinora had come out of her room in her impatience, arrayed for the party she was to attend. Another hair-dresser had been sent for to complete the work which André had begun; but the young lady was more than an hour late, and proportionally impatient.
"Are you deaf, Lawrence? The carriage has come," pouted Elinora.
"That's not the carriage for you, miss. It's to take the barber to his own place," replied Lawrence.