It was the next morning, that, after the doctor's visit was
over, Jeanne-Marie returned to the bedroom, with the air of
having tidings to impart.
"You will be satisfied now, I hope," she said, as she met the
gaze of the restless brown eyes. "M. le Docteur says you may
get up for an hour this afternoon."
"Does he?" cried Madelon, eagerly; "then he thinks I am
better--that I shall soon be well."
"Of course you are better," said Jeanne-Marie--"you are getting
stronger every day; you will soon be quite well again."
"And how soon shall I be able to go out?--to go on a journey,
for instance?"
"You are, then, very anxious to get away?" asked Jeanne-Marie.
"But yes," said Madelon naively, "I must go as soon as
possible."
"Ah, well," said the woman, stifling a sigh, "that is only
natural; but there is no hurry, you will not be able to go
yet."
"No," said Madelon, sadly, "I shall not be able to go yet."
She did not remark Jeanne-Marie's sad voice, nor the unwonted
tears that filled her eyes; the woman felt half heart-broken
at what she imagined to be her charge's indifference.
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