“And do you think, sir, that it should be so held, and so applied in actual life? For instance, should I honor my father, if I knew him to be a seducer?”
“Pierre! Pierre!” said his mother, profoundly coloring, and half rising; “there is no need of these argumentative assumptions. You very immensely forget yourself this morning.”
“It is merely the interest of the general question, Madam,” returned Pierre, coldly. “I am sorry. If your former objection does not apply here, Mr. Falsgrave, will you favor me with an answer to my question?”
“There you are again, Mr. Glendinning,” said the clergyman, thankful for Pierre’s hint; “that is another question in morals absolutely incapable of a definite answer, which shall be universally applicable.” Again the surplice-like napkin chanced to drop.
“I am tacitly rebuked again then, sir,” said Pierre, slowly; “but I admit that perhaps you are again in the right. And now, Madam, since Mr. Falsgrave and yourself have a little business together, to which my presence is not necessary, and may possibly prove quite dispensable, permit me to leave you. I am going off on a long ramble, so you need not wait dinner for me. Good morning, Mr. Falsgrave; good morning, Madam,” looking toward his mother.
As the door closed upon him, Mr. Falsgrave spoke—“Mr. Glendinning looks a little pale to-day: has he been ill?”
“Not that I know of,” answered the lady, indifferently, “but did you ever see young gentleman so stately as he was! Extraordinary!” she murmured; “what can this mean—Madam—Madam? But your cup is empty again, sir”—reaching forth her hand.
“No more, no more, Madam,” said the clergyman.
“Madam? pray don’t Madam me any more, Mr. Falsgrave; I have taken a sudden hatred to that title.”
“Shall it be Your Majesty, then?” said the clergyman, gallantly; “the May Queens are so styled, and so should be the Queens of October.”