nkness," returned Maurice, sharply, "forces me to confess that
this conversation is particularly distasteful to me. The lady in
question"--

Lord Linden interrupted him with a light laugh. "Lady? Oh! I see you
adopt the customs and phraseology of the country in which you live; and
_here_, a mantua-maker is, of course, a lady; just as a respectable
boot-black is, in common parlance, an accomplished gentleman."

"My lord,"--began Maurice, angrily; but Lord Linden would not permit him
to continue.

"Oh, don't be offended; I suppose you are a naturalized foreigner; you
are quite right to accept the manners of the country you adopt; it is
the true diplomatic dodge. And, besides, I admit that the _lady_ in
question might anywhere be mistaken for a thorough lady. She has all the
points which betoken the high-bred dame. I'll not quarrel with the term
you use! All I ask is fair play, and that you will not attempt to
monopolize the field."

"Lord Linden," replied Maurice, unable to endure this impertinence any
longer, "once more I beg to inform you that you are using language to
which I cannot listen. I will not permit any man to speak of that lady
in the manner which you have chosen to employ. I shall consider it a
personal insult if you persist."

"Indeed! Have matters gone so far? Really, I did not suspect that the
ground was already occupied, and that the _lady_ whose mantua-making and
millinery are the admiration of all Washington, had a protector by whom
her less favored acquaintances must expect to be taken to task."

These words were spoken in a tone sufficiently caustic to render their
meaning unmistakable.

"She has protectors, my lord,--legal protectors,--who are ready to prove
their right to defend her," replied Maurice, with severity, and rising
as he spoke.

All considerations of prudence,--the wishes of Madeleine and of his
family,--were forgotten at the moment: she was insulted, and he was
there to defend her; that was all he remembered.

Lord Linden, though he could not but be struck by the tone and manner of
the viscount, echoed the words, "The right?"

"Yes, the _right_, as well as the _might_. Mademoiselle Melanie, the
mantua-maker, is in reality Mademoiselle Madeleine Melanie de Gramont,
the daughter of the late Duke de Gramont, and the second cousin of my
father, Count Tristan de Gramont."

"Good heavens! of what gross stupidity I have been guilty! How shall I
ever obtain your pardon?"

Witho