Doctor Hortebise did not find it necessary to resort to any of those expedients
which Mascarin had found it advisable to use in order to reach Madame de
Mussidan. As soon as he presented himself--that is, after a brief interval of five
minutes--he was introduced into the presence of the Countess. He rather
wondered at this, for Madame de Mussidan was one of those restless spirits that
are seldom found at home, but are to be met with at exhibitions, on race-courses,
at the salons, restaurants, shops, or theatres; or at the studio of some famous
artist; or at the rooms of some musical professor who had discovered a new
tenor; anywhere and everywhere, in fact, except at home. Hers was one of those
restless natures constantly craving for excitement; and husband, home, and child
were mere secondary objects in her eyes. She had many avocations; she was a
patroness of half a dozen charitable institutions, but the chief thing that she did
was to spend money. Gold seemed to melt in her grasp like so much snow, and
she never knew what became of the sums she lavished so profusely. Husband
and wife had long been almost totally estranged, and led almost separate
existences. Dr. Hortebise was well aware of this, in common with others who
moved in society. Upon the appearance of the doctor, the Countess dropped the
book she had been perusing, and gave vent to an exclamation of delight. "Ah,
doctor, this is really very kind of you;" and at the same time signed to the servant
to place a chair for the visitor.
The Countess was tall and slender, and at forty-five had the figure of a girl. She
had an abundance of fair hair, the color of which concealed the silver threads
which plentifully interspersed it. A subtle perfume hung about her, and her pale
blue eyes were full of pride and cold disdain.
"You know how to time your visits so well, doctor!" said she. "I am thoroughly
bored, and am utterly weary of books, for it always seems to me, when I read,
that I had perused the same thing before somewhere or other. You have arrived
at so opportune a moment, that you appear to be a favorite of timely chance."
The doctor was indeed a favorite of chance; but the name of the chance was
Baptiste Mascarin.
"I see so few visitors," continued Madame de Mussidan, "that hardly any one
comes to see me. I must really set aside one day in the week for my at home; for
when I do happen to stay at home, I feel fearfully dull and lonely. For two mortal
hours I have been in this room. I have been nursing the Count."
The doctor knew better than this; but he smiled pleasantly, and said, "Perfectly
so," exactly at the right moment.
"Yes," continued the Countess, "my husband slipped on the stairs, and hurt
himself very much. Our doctor says it is nothing; but then I put little faith in what
doctors say."
"I know that by experience, madame," replied Hortebise.
"Present company of course always excepted; but, do you know, I once really
believed in you; but your sudden conversion to homeopathy quite frightened me."
