Madame Thuillier rose to leave the room.
“No! you shall not go out,” cried Brigitte, pushing her down into her chair; “and till Thuillier comes home and decides what he will do with you you’ll stay locked up here.”
Just as Brigitte, her face on fire, returned to the room where she had left Madame Colleville, her brother came in. He was radiant.
“My dear,” he said to the Megaera, not observing her fury, “everything is going on finely; the conspiracy of silence is broken; two papers, the ‘National’ and a Carlist journal, have copied articles from us, and there’s a little attack in a ministerial paper.”
“Well, all is not going on finely here,” said Brigitte, “and if it continues, I shall leave the barrack.”
“Whom are you angry with now?” asked Thuillier.
“With your insolent wife, who has made me a scene; I am trembling all over.”
“Celeste make you a scene!” said Thuillier; “then it is the very first time in her life.”
“There’s a beginning to everything, and if you don’t bring her to order—”
“But what was it about—this scene?”