“The two ladies and the fresh, blooming girl are much preoccupied about the pale little girl, so much so that they do not notice the interest they arouse among the guests. All the old ‘misses,’ loaded with jewels, watch the family in mourning, as if they were wondering: ‘How come they here, if their position is not so good as ours? How dare they mix among us, not being in our class?’
“And it is a fact; they cannot be; there is something that shows that this family is not rich. Besides, and this is extraordinary enough, it seems that they haven’t come here to look down on others, or to give themselves airs, but to take walks and to look at the immaculate peaks of Mont Blanc. So one sees the two girls going out into the country without making an elaborate toilet, carrying a book or an orange in their hands, and coming back with bunches of flowers....”
TRAGEDY IN A HOTEL ROOM
“This morning at lunch only one of the ladies appeared in the dining-room.
“‘Perhaps the others have gone off on some picnic,’ thought I.
“In the evening at dinner, the tall woman with the glasses and the larger of the two girls were at table. They didn’t eat, and disquietude was painted on their faces; the girl had flushed cheeks and swollen eyes.
“‘What can be happening to them?’ I asked myself.
“At that juncture, in came the short lady, with two vials of medicine in her hand, and put them on the table. By what I could hear of the conversation, she had just come from Lausanne, where she had gone for the doctor. The melancholy little girl, the one with the waxen face, must be ill.
“No doubt the family have come to Switzerland for the sake of the child, who is probably delicate, and have made a sacrifice to do so. That explains their modest air, and the rapid departure of the man who brought them.
“The three women gazed sadly at one another. What can the poor child have? I remember nothing about her, except her hair parted in the middle, and the pallid colour of her bloodless skin, and nevertheless it makes me sad to think that she is sick.