“How very singular! He is brave and generous.”
“That may be; but he is evidently not my sort. I do not like him. I should perhaps find it difficult to tell you the reason for that dislike. All I know is, that it does exist, and I may add it is likely to exist.”
“I am very sorry for it.”
“Why, my dear Madame? It cannot be a matter of any moment whether I like or dislike Monsieur Chanet. I have met him to-day for the first time, and possibly we may never meet again.”
“You are mistaken.”
“In what way?”
“This young man,” answered Madame Trieste, “will shortly be my son.”
“Your son, madame? Impossible!”
“It is a fact, monsieur.”
Lord Ethalwood appeared thunderstruck, and he changed colour.