"Perhaps I ought to apologize for disturbing you," she continued, sarcastically.
"Not at all—not at all," said Maurice, who felt that it was his duty to answer and shield Madeleine, as far as possible, from his grandmother's displeasure.
"Why, then, is Madeleine covered with confusion? Why did she so quickly withdraw her hand? How—how came it clasped in yours?"
"Is she not my cousin?" answered Maurice, evasively. "Have I no right to show her affection? Must I renounce the ties of blood?"
"It is not you, Maurice, whom I blame," said the countess, trying to speak less sternly. "It is Madeleine, who should not have permitted this unmeet familiarity. I well know by what arts she has lured you to forget yourself. The fault lies with her."
For the first time the countess beheld a flash of indignation in the eyes Madeleine lifted from the ground.
"Madame—aunt!" she began.
The countess would not permit her to proceed.
"I know what I say! You have too much tact and quickness not to have comprehended our hopes in regard to Maurice and Bertha; and it has not escaped my notice that you have sought, by every artful manœuvre in your power, to frustrate those hopes."
"I?" ejaculated Madeleine, aghast at the charge, and too much bewildered to be able to utter a denial.