“You are hard upon me, monsieur; but I deserve it, and that is why I am here. A gentleman always acknowledges when he is in the wrong: in this instance I am the offender; and I flatter myself that my past will permit me to say so without being accused of cowardice or lack of self-respect. I insisted upon seeing you here instead of in your study, because, having been rude to you in the presence of your clerks, I wished them to hear me apologize for my behavior of this morning.”
Clameran’s speech was so different from his usual overbearing, haughty conduct, that surprise almost stupefied the banker, and he could only answer:
“I must say that I was hurt by your doubts, insinuations, suspicions of my honor——”
“This morning,” continued the marquis, “I was irritated, and thoughtlessly gave way to my temper. Although I am gray-headed, my disposition is as excitable as that of a fiery young man of twenty years; and I hope you will forget words uttered in a moment of excitement, and now deeply regretted.”
M. Fauvel, being a kind-hearted though quick-tempered man, could appreciate Clameran’s feelings; and, knowing that his own high reputation for scrupulous honesty could not be affected by any hasty or abusive language uttered by a creditor, at once calmed down before so frank an apology; and, holding out his hand to Clameran, said:
“Let us forget what happened, monsieur.”
They conversed in a friendly manner for some minutes; and, after Clameran had explained why he had such pressing need of the money at that particular hour of the morning, turned to leave, saying that he would do himself the honor of calling upon Mme. Fauvel during the day.
“That is, if a visit from me would not be considered intrusive,” he said with a shade of hesitation. “Perhaps, after the trouble of this morning, she does not wish to be disturbed.”
“Oh, no!” said the banker; “come, by all means; I think a visit from you would cheer her mind. I shall be from home all day, trying to trace this unfortunate affair.”
Mme. Fauvel was in the same room where Raoul had threatened to kill himself the night previous; she looked very pale and ill as she lay on a sofa. Madeleine was bathing her forehead.