There is a wife for you--a wife of the English
fashion!"
Fanny gasped.
"After he is dead! Is Lord Harry dead? When did he die?"
"But, assuredly, Mademoiselle has not heard? The English milord died on
Thursday morning, a week and more ago, of consumption, and was buried
in the cemetery of Auteuil last Saturday. Mademoiselle appears
astonished."
"En effet, Monsieur, I am astonished."
"Already the tombstone is erected to the memory of the unhappy young
man, who is said to belong to a most distinguished family of Ireland.
Mademoiselle can see it with her own eyes in the cemetery."
"One word more, Monsieur. If Monsieur would have the kindness to tell
her who was the nurse of milord in his last seizure?"
"But certainly. All the world knows the widow La Chaise. It was the
widow La Chaise who was called in by the doctor. Ah! there is a
man--what a man! What a miracle of science! What devotion to his
friend! What admirable sentiments! Truly, the English are great in
sentiments when their insular coldness allows them to speak. This widow
can be found--easily found."
He gave Fanny, in fact, the nurse's address. Armed with this, and
having got out of the landlord the cardinal fact of Lord Harry's
alleged death, the lady's-maid went in search of this respectable
widow.
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