She cast a reproachful glance upon the Chevalier, 'neath which the anger seemed to die out of him; then she went forward with hands outstretched and a sad smile upon her lips.
"Yvonne!" The Chevalier's voice rang out sharp and sudden.
She stopped.
"I forbid you to approach that man!"
For a moment she appeared to hesitate; then, leisurely pursuing her way, she set her hands upon her brother's shoulders and embraced him.
The Chevalier swore through set teeth; Geneviève trembled, Andrea looked askance, and I laughed softly at the Chevalier's discomfiture. Eugène flung his hat and cloak into a corner and strode across the room to where his father stood.
"And now, Monsieur, since I have travelled all the way from Paris to save my house from a step that will bring it into the contempt of all France, I shall not go until you have heard me."
The Chevalier shrugged his shoulders and made as if to turn away. Yvonne's greeting of her brother appeared to have quenched the spark of spirit that for a moment had glimmered in the little man's breast.
"Monsieur," cried Eugène, "believe me that what I have to say is of the utmost consequence, and say it I will--whether before these strangers or in your private ear shall be as you elect."
The old man glanced about him like one who seeks a way of escape. At last--"If say it you must," he growled, "say it here and now. And when you have said it, go."
Eugène scowled at me, and from me to Andrea. To pay him for that scowl, I had it in my mind to stay; but, overcoming the clownish thought, I took Andrea by the arm.
"Come, Andrea," I said, "we will take a turn outside while these family matters are in discussion."
I had a shrewd idea what was the substance of Eugène's mission to Canaples--to expostulate with his father touching the proposed marriage of Yvonne to the Cardinal's nephew.
Nor was I wrong, for when, some moments later, the Chevalier recalled us from the terrace, where we were strolling--"What think you he has come hither to tell me?" he inquired as we entered. He pointed to his son as he spoke, and passion shook his slender frame as the breeze shakes a leaf. Mademoiselle and Geneviève sat hand in hand--Yvonne deadly pale, Geneviève weeping.
"What think you he has the effrontery to say? Têtedieu! it seems that he has profited little by the lesson you read him in the horse-market about meddling in matters which concern him not. He has come hither to tell me that he will not permit his sister to wed the Cardinal's nephew; that he will not have the estates of Canaples pass into the hands of a foreign upstart. He, forsooth--he! he! he!" And at each utterance of the pronoun he lunged with his forefinger in the direction of his son. "This he is not ashamed to utter before Yvonne herself!"