The count leaned over the cradle and covered the child with kisses. Bathilde turned her head away to hide her tears; but they were not unpleasant, and she did not try to restrain them.
"Does the doctor still say that there is no danger?" asked Léodgard, addressing Jarnonville; but he pretended not to hear, in order to compel the count to address his wife.
Seeing that the chevalier persisted in not replying, Léodgard made up his mind to turn to Bathilde; whereupon the young woman murmured, without looking at her husband:
"My daughter has now reached the point where her disease is at its height; but to-night, about midnight, the doctor says that the fever should begin to abate; he has assured me that Blanche is in no danger."
"But this extreme redness——"
"Is characteristic of this fever. It worried me too, but the doctor declares that it is better that it should be so.—But you, monsieur le comte—I thought that you were not allowed to leave your bed yet; is it not imprudent?"
"Your husband would not listen to reason, madame," said Jarnonville; "his desire to see his daughter was stronger than any words of mine!"
Léodgard looked up at the chevalier and smiled slightly.
"Ah!" he murmured; "you seem to be talking now, Jarnonville!"
Then, turning again toward his daughter, he said: