"Monsieur the director of the hospital," said he to him, "how many sick people have you at the prese

"Monsieur the director of the hospital," said he to him, "how many sick people have you at the present moment?" "Twenty-six, Monseigneur." "That was the number which I counted," said the Bishop. "The beds," pursued the director, "are very much crowded against each other." "That is what I observed." "The halls are nothing but rooms, and it is with difficulty that the air can be changed in them." "So it seems to me." "And then, when there is a ray of sun, the garden is very small for the convalescents." "That was what I said to myself." "In case of epidemics,--we have had the typhus fever this year; we had the sweating sickness two years ago, and a hundred patients at times,--we know not what to do." "That is the thought which occurred to me." "What would you have, Monseigneur?" said the director. "One must resign one's self." This conversation took place in the gallery dining-room on the ground-floor. The Bishop remained silent for a moment; then he turned abruptly to the director of th