forget that for two years I have in vain constantly
expressed my disappointment of this marriage."

"No, sir. I have seen Mademoiselle Claire; I have explained my unhappy
position to her. Whatever happens, she has sworn to be my wife."

"And do you think that Madame d'Arlange will give her granddaughter to
M. Gerdy?"

"We hope so, sir. The marchioness is sufficiently infected with
aristocratic ideas to prefer a nobleman's bastard to the son of some
honest tradesman; but should she refuse, we would await her death,
though without desiring it."

The calm manner in which Albert said this enraged the count.

"Can this be my son?" he cried. "Never! What blood have you then in your
veins, sir? Your worthy mother alone might tell us, provided, however,
she herself knows."

"Sir," cried Albert menacingly, "think well before you speak! She is
my mother, and that is sufficient. I am her son, not her judge. No one
shall insult her in my presence, I will not permit it, sir; and I will
suffer it least of all from you."

The count made great efforts to keep his anger within bounds, but
Albert's behavior thoroughly enraged him. What, his son rebelled, he
dared to brave him to his face, he threatened him! The old fellow jumped
from his chair, and moved towards the young man as if he would strike
him.

"Leave the room," he cried, in a voice choking with rage, "leave the
room instantly! Retire to your apartments, and take care not to leave
them without my orders. To-morrow I will let you know my decision."

Albert bowed respectfully, but without lowering his eyes and walked
slowly to the door. He had already opened it, when M. de Commarin
experienced one of those revulsions of feeling, so frequent in violent
natures.

"Albert," said he, "come here and listen to me."

The young man turned back, much affected by this change.

"Do not go," continued the count, "until I have told you what I think.
You are worthy of being the heir of a great house, sir. I may be angry
with you; but I can never lose my esteem for you. You are a noble man,
Albert. Give me your hand."

It was a happy moment for these two men, and such a one as they had
scarcely ever experienced in their lives, restrained as they had been by
cold etiquette. The count felt proud of his son, and recognised in
him himself at that age. For a long time their hands remained clasped,
without either being able to utter a word.

At last, M. de Commarin resumed his seat.