"We have been unjust to you, Arthur, and I perhaps more than the rest. I was indignant at the marriage and at the compulsion we had been subjected to, and I honestly confess I have hated you with all my heart ever since the day you married my sister. I found out yesterday that we had been mistaken in our opinion of you, and so it is all up with my hatred. I am sorry, very sorry, and--and that is what I wanted to say. Will you shake hands, Arthur?"
He held out his hand heartily. Arthur grasped it.
"I thank you, Con," he said, simply.
"Well, thank God, that is over. I could not sleep for it all night!" exclaimed the young fellow, greatly relieved. "And, believe me, my father does you justice too. He won't own it to you, I daresay, but I know it is in his mind."
A fleeting smile crossed Arthur's face, but it did not clear his brow or bring a sparkle to his eyes. A heavy shadow lay on both as he answered quietly,
"I am glad of it. So we shall not part as enemies."
"Oh, about the journey," broke in Conrad, hastily. "My father is still up in his room, and Eugénie is all by herself in hers. Will you not go in and speak to her?"
"What for?" asked Arthur in surprise. "The Baron may come in at any moment, and Eugénie will hardly"----
"I will stand before the door and not let any one in. I will manage to keep my father here until you are ready."
Arthur's face flushed under the other's earnest gaze, but he shook his head gravely.