The official withdrew in confusion.
"Whose handwriting?" asked Joliette, his curiosity and jealousy simultaneously excited. Mlle. d' Armilly had frequently referred to her numerous admirers and the letters she received from them, and the Captain naturally jumped to the conclusion that this note had been sent by some ardent Roman suitor. He considered the artiste's exclamation and assumption of displeasure as mere artful tricks designed to deceive him.
"Whose handwriting?" repeated Mlle. d' Armilly; scornfully. "Must I explain everything to you?"
The young man had borne all his companion in her anger had heaped upon him with comparative equanimity, but he could not bear the idea of a rival, the very thought was torture.
"Louise," he pleaded, "let me see that letter, let me read it."
"What! Must you needs examine my private correspondence! Captain Joliette, you are going too far! You have done enough to-night, without adding insult to injury!"
"I did not seek to injure you, Louise, God knows! Neither do I wish to insult you; but that letter I must and will read!"
"You talk as if I were already your wife and slave. Adopt another and less authoritative tone, monsieur. Captain Joliette, you are not yet my husband!"
"Would that I were and were sure of your love, Louise! The continual uncertainty in which you keep me is insupportable! You refuse to let me read that letter?"
The young man, in his turn, began to pace the dressing-room excitedly, his jealous suspicions growing stronger and stronger.