Barrois took away the waiter, and hardly was he outside the door, which in his haste he forgot to shut, than they saw him throw back his head and empty to the very dregs the glass which Valentine had filled. Valentine and Morrel were exchanging their adieux in the presence of Noirtier when a ring was heard at the doorbell. It was the signal of a visit. Valentine looked at her watch.

“It is past noon,” said she, “and today is Saturday; I dare say it is the doctor, grandpapa.”

Noirtier looked his conviction that she was right in her supposition.

“He will come in here, and M. Morrel had better go⁠—do you not think so, grandpapa?”

“Yes,” signed the old man.

“Barrois,” cried Valentine, “Barrois!”

“I am coming, mademoiselle,” replied he.