bow.
'In that case, sir, please to step in here; I will let you know when it is time.'
'I shall wait your highness's order.'
'And pray remember my instructions,' added the marquis, as he unfastened the loops of the curtain.
'You may be perfectly tranquil, M. l'Abbe.' The heavy drapery, as it fell, completely concealed the man in spectacles.
The princess touched the bell; some moments after, the door opened, and the servant announced a very important personage in this work.
Dr. Baleinier was about fifty years of age, middling size, rather plump, with a full shining, ruddy countenance. His gray hair, very smooth and rather long, parted by a straight line in the middle, fell flat over his temples. He had retained the fashion of wearing short, black silk breeches, perhaps because he had a well-formed leg; his garters were fastened with small, golden buckles, as were his shoes of polished morocco leather; his coat, waistcoat, and cravat were black, which gave him rather a clerical appearance; his sleek, white hand was half hidden beneath a cambric ruffle, very closely plaited; on the whole, the gravity of his costume did not seem to exclude a shade of foppery.
His face was acute and smiling; his small gray eye announced rare penetration and sagacity. A man of the world and a man of pleasure, a delicate epicure, witty in conversation, polite to obsequiousness, supple, adroit, insinuating, Baleinier was one of the oldest favorites of the congregational set of the Princess de Saint-Dizier. Thanks to this powerful support, its cause unknown, the doctor, who had been long neglected, in spite of real skill and incontestable merit, found himself, under the Restoration, suddenly provided with two medical sinecures most valuable, and soon after with numerous patients. We must add, that, once under the patronage of the princess, the doctor began scrupulously to observe his religious duties; he communicated once a week, with great publicity, at the high mass in Saint Thomas Aquinas Church.
At the year's end, a certain class of patients, led by the example and enthusiasm of Madame de Saint-Dizier's followers, would have no other physician than Doctor Baleinier, and his practice was now increased to an extraordinary degree. It may be conceived how important it was for the order, to have amongst its 'plain clothes members' one of the most popular practitioners of Paris.
A doctor has in some sort a priesthood of his own. Admitted at all hours to the most secret intimacy of families, he knows, guesses, and is able to effect much. Like the priest, in short, he has the ear of the sick and the dying. Now, when he who cares for the health of the body, and he who takes charge of the health of the soul, understands each other, and render mutual aid for the advancement of a common interest, there is nothing (with certain exceptions), which they may not extract from the weakness and fears of a sick man at the last gasp—not for themselves (the laws forbid it)—but for third parties belonging more or less to the very convenient class of men of straw. Doctor Baleinier was therefore one of the most active and valuable assistant members of the Paris Jesuits.
When he entered the room, he hastened to kiss the princess's hand with the most finished gallantry.
'Always punctual, my dear M. Baleinier.'
'Always eager and happy to attend to your highness's orders.' Then turning towards the marquis, whose hand he pressed cordially, he added: 'Here we have you then at last. Do you know, that three months' absence appears very long to your friends?'
'The time is as long to the absent as to those who remain, my dear doctor. Well! here is the great day, Mdlle. de Cardoville is coming.'
'I am not quite easy,' said the princess; 'suppose she had any suspicion?'
'That's impossible,' said M. Baleinier; 'we are the best friends in the world. You know, that Mdlle. Adrienne has always had great confidence in me. The day before yesterday, we laughed a good deal, and as I made some observations to her, as usual, on her eccentric mode of life, and on the singular state of excitement in which I sometimes found her—'
'M. Baleinier never fails to insist on these circumstances, in appearance so insignificant,' said Madame de Saint-Dizier to the marquis with a meaning look.
'They are indeed very essential,' replied the other.
'Mdlle. Adrienne answered my observations,' resumed the doctor, 'by laughing at me in the gayest and most witty manner; for I must confess, that this young lady has one of the aptest and most accomplished minds I know.'
'Doctor, doctor!' said Madame de Saint-Dizier, 'no weakness!'
Instead of answering immediately, M. Baleinier drew his gold snuff-box from his waistcoat pocket, opened it, and took slowly a pinch of snuff, looking all the time at the princess with so significant an air, that she appeared quite reassured. 'Weakness, madame?' observed he at last, brushing some grains of snuff from his shirt-front with his plump white hand; 'did I not have the honor of volunteering to extricate you from this embarrassment?'
'And you are the only person in the world that could render us this important service,' said D'Aigrigny.
'Your highness sees, therefore,' resumed the doctor, 'that I am not likely to show any weakness. I perfectly understand the responsibility of what I undertake; but such immense interests, you told me, were at stake—'
'Yes,' said D'Aigrigny, 'interests of the first consequence.'
'Therefore I did not hesitate,' proceeded M. Baleinier; 'and you need not be at all uneasy. As a man of taste, accustomed to good society, allow me to render homage to the charming qualities of Mdlle. Adrienne; when the time for action comes, you will find me quite as willing to do my work.'
'Perhaps, that moment may be nearer than we thought,' said Madame de Saint-Dizier, exchanging a glance with D'Aigrigny.
'I am, and will be, always ready,' said the doctor. 'I answer for everything that concerns myself. I wish I could be as tranquil on every other point.'
'Is not your asylum still as fashionable—as an asylum can well be?' asked Madame de Saint-Dizier, with a half smile.
'On the contrary. I might almost complain of having too many boarders. It is not that. But, whilst we are waiting for Mdlle. Adrienne, I will mention another subject, which only relates to her indirectly, for it concerns the person who, bought Cardoville Manor, one Madame de la Sainte-Colombe, who has taken me for a doctor, thanks to Rodin's able management.'
'True,' said D'Aigrigny; 'Rodin wrote to me on the subject—but without entering into details.'
'These are the facts,' resumed the doctor. 'This Madame de la Sainte Colombe, who was at first considered easy enough to lead, has shown herself very refractory on the head of her conversion. Two spiritual directors have already renounced the task of saving her soul. In despair, Rodin unslipped little Philippon on her. He is adroit, tenacious, and above all patient in the extreme—the very man that was wanted. When I got Madame de la Sainte- Colombe for a patient, Philippon asked my aid, which he was naturally entitled to. We agreed upon our plan. I was not to appear to know him the least in the world; and he was to keep me informed of the variations in the moral state of his penitent, so that I might be able, by the use of very inoffensive medicines—for there was nothing dangerous in the illness—to keep my patient in alternate states of improvement or the reverse, according as her director had reason to be satisfied or displeased—so that he might say to her: 'You see, madame, you are in the good way! Spiritual grace acts upon your bodily health, and you are already better. If, on the contrary, you fall back into evil courses, you feel immediately some physical ail, which is a certain proof of the powerful influence of faith, not only on the soul, but on the body also?''
'It is doubtless painful,' said D'Aigrigny, with perfect coolness, 'to be obliged to have recourse to such means, to rescue perverse souls from perdition—but we must needs proportion our modes of action to the intelligence and the character of the individual.'
'By-the-bye, the princess knows,' resumed the doctor, 'that I have often pursued this plan at St. Mary's Convent, to the great advantage of the soul's peace and health of some of our patients, being extremely innocent. These alternations never exceed the difference between 'pretty well,' and 'not quite so well.' Yet small as are the variations, they act most efficaciously on certain minds. It was thus with Madame de la Sainte-Colombe. She was in such a fair way of recovery, both moral and physical, that Rodin thought he might get Philippon to advise the country for his penitent, fearing that Paris air might occasion a relapse. This advice, added to the desire the woman had to play 'lady of the parish,' induced her to buy Cardoville Manor, a good investment in any respect. But yesterday, unfortunate Philippon came to tell me, that Madame de la Sainte-Colombe was about to have an awful
