and turned to face
the family council.

"See what it is to have an uncle!" he said, and his voice, though clear
enough, was not quite so proud and convincing as his attitude. "He
treats me like a child crying for the moon. If he could, he would fetch
the moon out of the sky for me. But his kind pains are quite thrown
away, mesdames et messieurs, for--I do not want the moon, any more than
the moon wants me!"

He almost laughed; and only the quick change of colour in his young face
showed that any feeling lay behind the words which sounded--in Monsieur
Joseph's ears at least--heartlessly playful.

Angelot stepped up to Madame de Sainfoy and respectfully kissed her
hand. "Bonsoir, madame!"

"Bonsoir, Angelot."

She spoke coldly; she was still uneasy, still suspicious; she gave him a
keen look, and his eyelids were not lifted to meet it. In another moment
he was gone.

Then the others gathered round poor Monsieur Joseph, and tried to make
him explain his wild behaviour. At first he stared at them vaguely, then
in a few quick words took all the blame upon himself. Yes, it was an
idea that had suddenly seized him. His love for Angelot, the beauty and
sweetness of Helene, a dream of happiness for them both! A pastoral
poem, in short! but it seemed that the young man was not worthy of his
place as its hero.

"It seems, after all, I am more poetical than you," he said rather
bitterly to Urbain.

"My dear," his brother said, "poetry at its best is the highest good
sense. Now your idea, as the boy himself let us know, is moonstruck
madness."

"Ah, moonstruck madness! Ah, the boy! Yes, yes," said Monsieur Joseph,
dreamily, and he also took his leave.

Monsieur Urbain and his wife followed immediately. Angelot had not
waited for them and the little hooded carriage, but had walked on across
the valley in the cool damp darkness. They talked very seriously as they
drove home, for once in entire agreement. When they reached the manor,
their son had shut himself into his own room, and they did not disturb
him.

"I hope you will soon keep your word, and find a suitable husband for
Helene," Madame de Sainfoy said to her husband. "I am a little tired of
the business."

"I don't think there will be much difficulty. We must look further
afield. Plenty of men of our own rank have accepted the Empire, and
Helene is a match for a Prince, though our little cousin refuses her! I
rather like that boy."

"Do you? I do not. Certai