Page 276 - madame-bovary

‘The letter! the letter!’
They thought she was delirious; and she was by midnight.
Brain-fever had set in.
For forty-three days Charles did not leave her. He gave up
all his patients; he no longer went to bed; he was constantly
feeling her pulse, putting on sinapisms and cold-water com-
presses. He sent Justin as far as Neufchatel for ice; the ice
melted on the way; he sent him back again. He called Mon-
sieur Canivet into consultation; he sent for Dr. Lariviere, his
old master, from Rouen; he was in despair. What alarmed
him most was Emma’s prostration, for she did not speak,
did not listen, did not even seem to suffer, as if her body and
soul were both resting together after all their troubles.
About the middle of October she could sit up in bed sup-
ported by pillows. Charles wept when he saw her eat her
first bread-and-jelly. Her strength returned to her; she got
up for a few hours of an afternoon, and one day, when she
felt better, he tried to take her, leaning on his arm, for a walk
round the garden. The sand of the paths was disappearing
beneath the dead leaves; she walked slowly, dragging along
her slippers, and leaning against Charles’s shoulder. She
smiled all the time.
They went thus to the bottom of the garden near the ter-
race. She drew herself up slowly, shading her eyes with her
hand to look. She looked far off, as far as she could, but on
the horizon were only great bonfires of grass smoking on
the hills.
‘You will tire yourself, my darling!’ said Bovary. And,
pushing her gently to make her go into the arbour, ‘Sit down