"When I first saw the eldest Meurice," he proceeded, "I supposed from his looks that he was a German. The Major bears a striking resemblance to the first Napoleon, and is certainly one of the handsomest men that I have seen in New Orleans. His manners are charming, as I suppose they ought to be, seeing that he has lived in Paris since he was a child."
Mrs. Larue had never transgressed the borders of Louisiana.
"When this war broke out he came home to see if he might be permitted to fight for his race, and for his and my country. He now wears the same uniform that I do, and he is my superior officer."
"It is shameful," broke out Lillie.
"It is the will of authority," answered Colburne,—"of authority that I have sworn to respect."
"A southern gentleman would resign," said Mrs. Larue.
"A northern gentleman keeps his oath and stands by his flag," retorted Colburne.
Mrs. Larue paused, suppressed her rising excitement, and with an exterior air of meekness considered the situation. She had gained her battle; she had wounded and punished him; she had probably detached Lillie from him; now she would stop the conflict.
"I beg pardon," she said, looking him full in the eyes with a charming little expression of penitence. "I am sorry if I have annoyed you. I thought, I hoped, you might perhaps be obliged to me for hinting to you that these people are not received here in society. You are a stranger, and do not know our prejudices. I pray you to excuse me if I have been officious."
Colburne was astonished, disarmed, ashamed, notwithstanding that he had been in the right and was the injured party.