I respected this new effort at relief, which, moreover set him right this time.
"You've had some words with my aunt, I suppose?" I added, at a venture, recollecting the cloud which seemed to hang over us at dinner.
"A regular earthquake!" he drawled out, in that appalling Marseilles accent which he falls into whenever he is overcome by any strong emotion. "Your aunt Eudoxia has discovered the whole bag of tricks! The story of the Passy house, your aunt Gretchen, the children, Dirkie, and the whole blessed shop!"
"But, perhaps she has only suspicions—the consequence of some gossip she has heard?"
"Suspicions?" he exclaimed; "why, they have met each other!"
"Nonsense, that's impossible!—Are you really sure of this?"
"Tê! Sure indeed? I should think so! I return home to dinner, come into the drawing-room, and I actually find them both there, talking together. They were kissing each other!"
"The deuce!" I exclaimed, quite alarmed this time.
"Well, that was a stunner, wasn't it, my dear boy?"
"It was indeed! Whatever did you do?"