"It is between us two then?" said Monsieur Antoine to Julie, while the notary made his exit.
"No, monsieur," she replied, pointing to Marcel; "I ask your permission to leave you together."
"Why so," said Antoine, with a peculiarly distressed air, putting out his hand to detain her, but not daring to touch her sleeve. "You bear me a grudge, Madame d'Estrelle! You are wrong; everything that I have done is in your interest. Why don't you want me to tell you?"
"Yes, indeed," said Marcel, "why should she refuse to find out what you have on your stomach? Pardon the expression, madame la comtesse, for I am a little irritated; but, pray set me the example of patience. Let us listen, since this is the day to defy the enemy all along the line."
Julie resumed her seat, with a cold and severe glance at Monsieur Antoine, which put the finishing touch to his confusion. He stuttered and stammered, and was incomprehensible.
"Come, come," interposed Marcel, "you don't succeed in making your confession, my poor uncle! It becomes my duty to question you. Let us proceed in order. Why did you leave Paris mysteriously on the day following a certain tragic adventure which happened to one of your plants?"
"Ah! you propose to talk about that, do you?" cried the horticulturist, his little eyes glaring wrathfully.
"Yes, I propose to talk about everything! Answer, or I take the judge away, and your condemnation stands."
"Condemnation to what?" said Antoine, glancing at Julie; "to her hatred?"
"No, monsieur, to my reprobation and my pity," replied Madame d'Estrelle, despite the mute remonstrances of Marcel, who wished to induce his uncle to mend his ways.