"And you did not peep out of the window?" cynically.
"Ma foi, no! I was too frightened. I did not want to see or hear! I put my head under the bed-clothes, and went to sleep."
"Heartless woman! After you had caused all the mischief!" indignantly.
"I deny it!" cried Mme. Lorraine, artlessly, fixing her big, reproachful eyes on his face. "I can not understand what all this fuss is about. I did but arrange a marriage for my pretty ward, French-fashion, with Remond, rich, in love with her, and a splendid parti. But the little rebel pouted, flirted, and held him at bay till he was wild with love and jealousy. She was romantic. I proposed that he run off with her and win her heart by a coup d'état. The priest was ready. All would have gone well but for the cursed intermeddling of that sneaking Yankee. I hate him! What did he have to do with her that he should break off the match? Do you say Remond has killed him?"
She had poured it all out in voluble French, protestingly, and with an air of the completest innocence, but she met only a furious frown.
"Madame, your airs of innocence are quite thrown away," he replied. "Your treachery is known. You would have sold that poor girl to a life that was worse than death. Your bargain in the garden was overheard," sternly. "Do you know what you have brought upon your head, traitress? Social ostracism and complete disgrace! The Jockey Club that has upheld you by its notice so many years, will desert you in a body. We can not horsewhip you as we shall Remond, but we shall hold you up to the scorn of the world."
"Mercy, monsieur!" she gasped, faintly, dropped her face in her hands, and dissolved in tears.
He had expected that she would scorn him, defy him, but this softer mood confounded him. He could not bear a woman's tears.
He sat and watched her in silence a few minutes, fidgeting restlessly, then said, curtly:
"Come, come, it is too late for tears unless they are tears of repentance for your sin."