“You are too good, my father,” said Gorenflot, astonished at this indulgent tone.
“You feared to come in after the scene of last night?”
“I confess it.”
“Ah, dear brother, you have been very imprudent.”
“Let me explain, father.”
“There is no need of explanations; your sally——”
“Oh! so much the better,” thought Gorenflot.
“I understand it perfectly. A moment of enthusiasm carried you away; enthusiasm is a holy virtue, but virtues, exaggerated become almost vices, and the most honorable sentiments, when carried to excess, are reprehensible.”
“Pardon, my father,” said Gorenflot, timidly, “but I do not understand. Of what sally do you speak?”
“Of yours last night.”