"That cannot be, M. de Mornand," interposed M. de Maillefort, who was still leaning over the back of the sofa on which Ernestine was seated.
M. de Mornand straightened himself up hastily, and, perceiving the marquis, demanded with great hauteur:
"What can not be, monsieur?"
"You can not dance with Mlle. de Beaumesnil, monsieur," answered the hunchback, still in the same quiet tone.
M. de Mornand shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, then, turning to Ernestine, repeated:
"Will mademoiselle do me the honour to accept my arm?"
Embarrassed and bewildered, Ernestine turned to M. de Maillefort as if to ask his advice, and again the marquis repeated in the same quiet but impressive tone, emphasising each word strongly:
"Mlle. de Beaumesnil can not and must not dance with M. de Mornand."
Ernestine was so impressed by M. de Maillefort's grave, almost solemn manner that, turning to M. de Mornand, she said, casting down her eyes:
"I must beg you to excuse me, monsieur, for I feel too fatigued to keep the promise I made you."