"Maman, maman chérie, me voilà! Yes, yes, of course it's all right—his sword given back to him untarnished, as the General said, and quite an ovation afterwards . . . supper with d'Andigné, no less. It was he who—oh, first, I must tell you that I've brought back a friend from Aurannes with me, rather against his will . . . in fact, I had the deuce of a tussle over it, so you will give him a warm welcome, won't you? He can't run up the stairs like me, so I came on in advance."
"But who is it, dearest?" asked his mother, disengaging herself from the whirlwind. "And you have not seen, Laurent, that I have a visi——"
But Laurent had gone to the half-open door and flung it wide. The guest who could not run up the stairs had just arrived on the threshold. There was a faint cry from the other side of the room. But Aymar only saw Mme de Courtomer.
"I really was brought by brute force; that must be my excuse, Madame," he said, smiling. "To inflict myself on you was no part of my plans. It has been as near a case of kidnapping as I ever remember to have heard of."
Mme de Courtomer, the tears coming into her eyes, gave him both her hands. "My dear Vicomte!" she said rather unsteadily. And Aymar bent his head and raised her hands to his lips.
It was at this juncture that Laurent became aware of Mme de Villecresne's presence. The shock, in his state of effervescence, was almost calculated to unseat his reason. But perhaps so many shocks in one room counteracted each other. Aymar was the only person who had not yet received his. At any rate, Laurent was able to cross the room and kiss Mme de Villecresne's hand; he did not quite know what he said to her, nor she, doubtless, what she said to him. Afterwards he had the impression that she never even saw him, her eyes being elsewhere.
Laurent's went in the same direction, and so he saw Aymar receive his shock. He changed colour, stiffened a little, and bowed, but he showed no signs of advancing from Mme de Courtomer's vicinity.
The Englishwoman out-generalled him, however. "Come, Vicomte," she said, laying her hand for an instant on his arm, "you will want a word with your cousin. It was a lucky chance that Mme de Villecresne was calling here to-day, and can be the first to congratulate you."
And, making a little sign to Laurent (for his part ready enough to receive it) she slipped out by an unobtrusive door, followed by her son, and almost before they knew it, Aymar and Avoye were alone . . . in a silence.
"Forgive my intrusion," said Aymar quietly but formally to the carpet. "Had I known that you were here. . . ." The sentence was fully completed by his slight movement of withdrawal.