“Yes; but that is not the conversation I mean.”
“What was it, general?”
“The day we talked of marriage.”
“Ah, yes! My sister’s marriage. That has probably taken place by this time, general.”
“I don’t mean your sister’s marriage; I mean yours.”
“Good!” said Roland, with a bitter smile. “I thought that had been disposed of, general.” And he made a motion as if to rise. Bonaparte caught him by the arm.
“Do you know whom I meant you to marry at that time, Roland?” he said, with a gravity that showed he was determined to be heard.
“No, general.”
“Well, my sister Caroline.”
“Your sister?”