"A command perhaps?"
He did not reply; obviously he had noted the sneer, for a very slight blush rose to his pale cheeks. Lydie, satisfied that the shaft had gone home, paused awhile, just long enough to let the subtle poison of her last words sink well in, then she resumed with calm indifference:
"You will forgive me, milor, when I venture to call your attention to the fact that hitherto I have considered myself to be the sole judge and mentor of my own conduct."
"Possibly this has worked very well in all matters, Madame," he replied, quite unruffled by her sarcasm, "but in this instance you see me compelled to ask you—reluctantly I admit—to give me that letter and then to vouchsafe me an explanation as to what you mean to do."
"You will receive it in due course, milor," she said haughtily; "for the moment I must ask you to excuse me. I am busy, and——"
She was conscious of an overwhelming feeling of irritation at his interference and, fearing to betray it beyond the bounds of courtesy, she wished to go away. But now he deliberately placed his hand on the knob, and stood between her and the door.
"Milor!" she protested.
"Yes, I am afraid I am very clumsy, Madame," he said quite gently. "Let us suppose that French good manners have never quite succeeded in getting the best of my English boorishness. I know it is against every rule of etiquette that I should stand between you and the door through which you desire to pass, but I have humbly asked for an explanation and also for that letter, and I cannot allow your ladyship to go until I have had it."
"Allow?" she said, with a short mocking laugh. "Surely, milor, you will not force me to refer to the compact to which you willingly subscribed when you asked me to be your wife?"
"'Tis not necessary, Madame, for I well remember it. I gave you a promise not to interfere with your life, such as you had chosen to organize it. I promised to leave you free in thought, action, and conduct, just as you had been before you honoured me by consenting to bear my name."