"In that he is the only male being who ever succeeded in causing our Louise an extra pulse-beat or two. Have you forgotten how she nearly lost her heart, and how distressed you were, just before her departure for the war?"
"Sapristi—I remember the fool. What has he come for, think you?"
"To seek Louise, doubtless. He will find that she is none the softer for her warfaring. I am not sorry she is from home, however, the sight of him might not be good for her, mon père. It would be a pity if her career were spoiled for the sake of a Henri d'Estreville, who, they say, is not too trustworthy."
"Oho!" said old Pierre; "is it so? He shall know that there is no longer a Louise Dupré to listen to his philandering."
This attitude did not bode well for Monsieur le Baron, who awaited Louise in the salon, more agitated than he would have believed possible.
"Monsieur will doubtless remember me," he explained; "it was I who brought Monsieur Paul de Tourelle, the only fencer—it is said—at whose hands Mademoiselle Louise was ever worsted."
"Ah, his was a fine hand with the foils!" said Pierre. "Yes, I remember well. Ha ha! in the first bout she scored twice with the feint flanconnade Dupré—a trick new to him and most successful; but after consideration he thought out a counter which was clever; I remember well. Does Monsieur le Baron come now as a pupil? Let me see, have we already enjoyed the honour of instructing Monsieur le Baron?"
"Monsieur, I have lately returned from the war; I have heard enough of the clash of swords to last me handsomely until the Emperor enters upon a new enterprise and one, let us hope, of better omen. I have come to pay my respects to a friend for whom I entertain feelings of the highest respect—it is Mademoiselle your daughter."
"Ah—Marie; she is within; I will tell her." Old Dupré shuffled off as though to fetch Marie.
"Pardon, Monsieur," said Henri, blushing; the old man was very dense. "You have another daughter; it is Mademoiselle Louise I mean!"