"Well!" said Dr. Griffon to the count with a triumphant air, "what do you
think of my hospital?"

"In truth," answered Saint Remy, "I do not know why I have yielded to your
desire; nothing is more heart-rending than the aspect of these wards filled
with sick. Since my entrance here my feelings quite overcome me."

"Bah! bah! in fifteen minutes you will think no more about it; you, who are
a philosopher, will find ample matter for observation: and then it would
have been a shame that you, one of my oldest friends, should not visit the
theater of my labors--of my glory, that you should not see me at my work.
All my pride is in my profession; is it wrong?"

"No, certainly not; and after your excellent care of Fleur-de-Marie, whom
you have saved, I could refuse you nothing. Poor child! what touching
charms her features have preserved, notwithstanding her dangerous illness!"

"She has furnished me with a very curious medical fact; I am enchanted with
her! By the bye, how has she passed this night? Did you see her this
morning before you left Asnieres?"

"No, but La Louve, who nurses her with unceasing assiduity, told me that
she had slept perfectly well. Can we allow her to write today?"

After a moment's hesitation, the doctor answered, "Yes. As long as the
subject was not completely convalescent, I feared the slightest emotion for
her, the slightest application of mind; but now I do not see that any
inconvenience can arise from her writing."