“You have not been quite well to-day, I think, countess?” remarked Doctor Nardi.
“I had a severe headache this morning,” she replied. “But it has passed.”
“Any feverish symptoms?” inquired the doctor.
“Yes,” she replied. “About an hour ago, I felt stifled with heat, and then had a shivering fit. But there is nothing to be alarmed at?” she added, nervously.
“Nothing—nothing,” he replied. “But you must retire to rest immediately. The fever has not quite left you, and may return.”
“But why should I retire to rest, dear doctor?” appealed the countess. “I do not feel ill. Ah! I see you are alarmed about me,” she continued, gazing eagerly at him. “Tell me what is the matter?”
“Do not agitate yourself, signora,” he returned. “You will soon be better—but you must attend to my directions. I will send you a febrifuge presently, and will see you in the morning. Good night, countess.”
He then bowed and departed, and Bonnivet, feeling very uneasy, followed him out of the room.
“I trust the countess is not seriously ill, doctor?” inquired Bonnivet.
“A passing indisposition,” replied Nardi, evasively. “But you must not stay, monseigneur. Take leave of the countess. At this awful season there is no security that they who part at night may meet again on the morrow.”