“Of what?

Find the disease first. For my part, I never knew myself better; never did the sky appear more blue to me; never did I take more care of my flowers.”

“You have a hidden grief.”

“Concealed! — not at all; the absence of my son, doctor; that is my malady, and I do not conceal it.”

“Monsieur le comte, your son lives, he is strong, he has all the future before him — the future of men of merit, of his race; live for him — ”

“But I do live, doctor; oh! be satisfied of that,” added he, with a melancholy smile; “for as long as Raoul lives, it will be plainly known, for as long as he lives, I shall live.”