“This way, this way, my dear Albert!” said he, holding out his hand to the young man. “Are you out of your senses, or do you come peaceably to take breakfast with me? Try and find a seat—there is one by that geranium, which is the only thing in the room to remind me that there are other leaves in the world besides leaves of paper.”
“Beauchamp,” said Albert, “it is of your journal that I come to speak.”
“Indeed? What do you wish to say about it?”
“I desire that a statement contained in it should be rectified.”
“To what do you refer? But pray sit down.”
“Thank you,” said Albert, with a cold and formal bow.
“Will you now have the kindness to explain the nature of the statement which has displeased you?”
“An announcement has been made which implicates the honor of a member of my family.”
“What is it?” said Beauchamp, much surprised; “surely you must be mistaken.”
“The story sent you from Yanina.”