I have been half afraid the girl, who
is devilishly handsome, might run away, and then my uncle would
have followed her; but an illness which seized her suddenly has
kept her in bed. If God desired to protect me, he would call her
soul to himself, now, while she is repenting of her sins.
Meantime, on my side I have, thanks to that old trump, Hochon, the
doctor of Issoudun, one named Goddet, a worthy soul who conceives
that the property of uncles ought to go to nephews rather than to
sluts.
Monsieur Hochon has some influence on a certain papa Fichet, who
is rich, and whose daughter Goddet wants as a wife for his son: so
the thousand francs they have promised him if he mends up my pate
is not the chief cause of his devotion. Moreover, this Goddet, who
was formerly head-surgeon to the 3rd regiment of the line, has
been privately advised by my staunch friends, Mignonnet and
Carpentier; so he is now playing the hypocrite with his other
patient. He says to Mademoiselle Brazier, as he feels her pulse,
"You see, my child, that there's a God after all. You have been
the cause of a great misfortune, and you must now repair it. The
finger of God is in all this [it is inconceivable what they don't
say the finger of God is in!]. Religion is religion: submit,
resign yourself, and that will quiet you better than my drugs.
Above all, resolve to stay here and take care of your master:
forget and forgive,--that's Christianity.
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