Lord Rupert snatched the letter unceremoniously out of her hand. “Here, let me read it!” he said. His eyes ran over the sheet. “Damme, if this doesn’t beat all!” he ejaculated. “Oh, there’s not a doubt about it: the boy’s gone stark, staring crazy.” He struck the paper with his hand. “It ain’t decent, Léonie! I’ve naught to say against him abducting this other wench: there’s no harm in that. But when he takes to running off with his cousin, blister it, it’s time he was clapped up!”
Mme. de Charbonne followed this rather imperfectly. “I do not understand. Vidal has eloped with Juliana, that is seen. But why, I ask you? Is it not permitted that they wed? Now they make a scandal, and Fanny will come here, and I am afraid of Fanny.”
Léonie, who had possessed herself of Juliana’s letter again, said stubbornly: “I do not believe it. Dominique does not love Juliana. There is a mistake. I remember, too, that Juliana is going to marry the Nobody.”
Madame de Charbonne said that she still did not understand. Upon the matter being made plain to her, she remarked thoughtfully: “Ah, that is the young Englishman, without doubt. He comes very often to see Juliana.”
“What, is Frederick Comyn in Paris, too, then?” demanded Rupert.
“That is the name,” nodded madame. “A young man tres comme il faut. But Juliana is going to marry Dominique.”
“No!” said Léonie firmly. “He does not want to, and he shall not.”
“But, my dear, he has eloped with her, and he must certainly marry her.”
“Lord, that’s nothing, Elisabeth!” said Rupert. “Juliana ain’t the only girl Vidal’s eloped with. I’ll tell you what it is, the boy’s a Bluebeard.”
“Stop saying that he has eloped with Juliana!” ordered Léonie, her eyes flashing. “I do not know why he has taken her away, but of a certainty he has a reason.”