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My godfather merely bent his head, as Madame Guerard was nothing to him. Aunt Rosine glanced at her from head to foot. Mlle. de Brabender shook hands cordially with her, for Madame Guerard was fond of me.
The door opened, and a pale, dark-haired woman entered, a most poetical-looking and charming creature. It was Madame Guerard, "the lady of the upstairs flat," as Marguerite always called her. My mother had made friends with her in rather a patronising way certainly, but Madame Guerard was devoted to me, and endured the little slights to which she was treated very patiently for my sake.
The bombardment continued, and one night I had to have all my patients transported to the Odeon cellars, for when Madame Guerard was helping one of the sick men to get back into bed, a shell fell on the bed itself, between her and the officer.
I remember so well that I was anaemic from privation, undermined by grief, tortured with anxiety about my family, and I went out with Madame Guerard and two friends towards the Parc Monceau. Suddenly one of my friends, M. de Plancy, turned as pale as death. I looked to see what was the matter, and noticed a soldier passing by. He had no weapons. Two others passed, and they also had no weapons.
Guerard quotes a case happening in 1774, in which there was submersion for an hour with subsequent recovery; but there hardly seems sufficient evidence of this. Green mentions submersion for fifteen minutes; Douglass, for fourteen minutes; Laub, for fifteen minutes; Povall gives a description of three persons who recovered after a submersion of twenty-five minutes.
He eyed me up and down most impolitely, and pretended not to recognise me. He signed to me to sit down, and without a word handed me a pen and showed me where to sign my name on the paper before me. Madame Guerard interposed, laying her hand on mine. "Do not sign without reading it," she said. "Are you Mademoiselle's mother?" he asked, looking up.
Marguerite would be coming down from her bedroom at the top of the house to prepare my mother's coffee, my chocolate, and bread and milk for my sisters. In a fit of despair and wild determination I kissed Madame Guerard with such violence as almost to stifle her, and rushed once more to my room to get my little Virgin Mary, which went with me everywhere.
The man-servant was now holding the door open for us, and as M. Auber returned to his visitor I heard him say: "Well, most ideal of women?" I went away rather astounded, and did not say a word in the carriage. Madame Guerard told my mother about our interview, but she did not even let her finish, and only said, "Good, good; thank you."
I had not finished my sentence when a terrible detonation roused the whole neighbourhood from its slumbers. Madame Guerard and I had been seated opposite each other. We found ourselves standing up close together in the middle of the room, terrified. My poor cook, her face quite white, came to me for safety. The detonations continued rather frequently.
The slit in my dress was soon mended, and, knowing now that the silk was not well dressed, I treated it with respect. Well, finally we started, Mlle. de Brabender, Madame Guerard, and I, in a carriage that was only intended for two persons; and I was glad that it was so small, for I was close to two people who were fond of me, and my silk frock was spread carefully over their knees.
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