Mivart accosted him with
great respect; and, after the first compliments, informed him that he
had been settled some months in this little town, and was doing a fair
stroke of business.
"Killing some, and letting nature cure others, eh?" said the doctor;
then, having had his joke, he told Mivart what had brought him to
Frejus.
"Are they pretty women, your friends? I think I know all the pretty
women about," said Mivart with levity. "They are not pretty,"
replied Aubertin. Mivart's interest in them faded visibly out of his
countenance. "But they are beautiful. The elder might pass for Venus,
and the younger for Hebe."
"I know them then!" cried he; "they are patients of mine."
The doctor colored. "Ah, indeed!"
"In the absence of your greater skill," said Mivart, politely; "it is
Madame Aubertin and her sister you are looking for, is it not?"
Aubertin groaned. "I am rather too old to be looking for a Madame
Aubertin," said he; "no; it is Madame Raynal, and Mademoiselle de
Beaurepaire."
Mivart became confidential. "Madame Aubertin and her sister," said he,
"are so lovely they make me ill to look at them: the deepest blue eyes
you ever saw, both of them; high foreheads; teeth like ivory mixed with
pearl; such aristocratic feet and hands; and their arms--oh!" and by way
of general summary the young surgeon kissed the tips of his fingers,
and was silent; language succumbed under the theme.
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