Jeannette mumbled rebelliously, but retired to a corner vanquished.
The man opened his eyes as a soft wave of air was wafted across his face.
A pair of soft, dark eyes looked down pityingly into his.
He shut his own with a murmured word of thanks, and let her fan him. Jeannette came ponderously across the room.
"Mamzelle, it is not fitting——"
"Did I not forbid you to speak?" said the haughty young voice.
"Yes, but Jeannette knows what is due to mamzelle, and——"
"Mademoiselle also knows."
Something in the tone stopped the old servant's words, and once more she retired vanquished.
The man smiled to himself.