“I have great need to deny these accusations?” said the Duke.
“Nay,” said Lady Mary wearily.
“Shall I tell you why I mus' be 'Victor' and 'Beaucaire' and 'Chateaurien,' and not myself?”
“To escape from the bailiffs for debts for razors and soap,” gibed Lord Townbrake.
“No, monsieur. In France I have got a cousin who is a man with a very bad temper at some time', and he will never enjoy his relatives to do what he does not wish—”
He was interrupted by a loud commotion from without. The door was flung open, and the young Count of Beaujolais bounded in and threw his arms about the neck of M. Beaucaire.
“Philippe!” he cried. “My brother, I have come to take you back with me.”
M. de Mirepoix followed him, bowing as a courtier, in deference; but M. Beaucaire took both his hands heartily. Molyneux came after, with Mr. Nash, and closed the door.
“My warmest felicitations,” said the Marquis. “There is no longer need for your incognito.”
“Thou best of masters!” said Beaucaire, touching him fondly on the shoulder. “I know. Your courier came safely. And so I am forgiven! But I forget.” He turned to the lady. She had begun to tremble exceedingly. “Faires' of all the English fair,” he said, as the gentlemen bowed low to her deep courtesy, “I beg the honor to presen' to Lady Mary Carlisle, M. le Comte de Beaujolais. M. de Mirepoix has already the honor. Lady Mary has been very kind to me, my frien's; you mus' help me make my acknowledgment. Mademoiselle and gentlemen, will you give me that favour to detain you one instan'?”