VIIIAs it turned out the precaution had not been needed, for three hours later, just as I had finished my dinner, Miss Bordereau’s niece appeared, unannounced, in the open doorway of the room in which my simple repasts were served. I remember well that I felt no surprise at seeing her; which is not a proof that I did not believe in her timidity. It was immense, but in a case in which there was a particular reason for boldness it never would have prevented her from running up to my rooms. I saw that she was now quite full of a particular reason; it threw her forward—made her seize me, as I rose to meet her, by the arm.
“My aunt is very ill; I think she is dying!”
“Never in the world,” I answered bitterly. “Don’t you be afraid!”
“Do go for a doctor—do, do! Olimpia is gone for the one we a
