"He would have gone away satisfied."
"I doubt it, Madame, and for a very good reason," I answered cynically. "Seeing that yesterday I told him, with the utmost particularity, that I had neither mother nor sister."
That afforded me a little revenge. Madame St. Alais went white and red in the same instant, and sat a moment with her lips pressed together, and her eyes on the table. "Who is he? What do you know of him?" she said at last.
"He is a poor gentleman and a bigoted Protestant," I answered drily.
She bit her lip. "Bon Dieu!" she muttered. "Who could have foreseen such an accident? Do you think that he suspects anything?"
"Doubtless. To begin, I left early this morning, in breach of an agreement to travel with him. When he learns, in addition, that I am travelling with my mother and sister, whom yesterday I did not possess----"
Madame looked at me, as if she would strike me. "What will you do?" she cried.
"It is for my mother to say," I answered politely. And I helped myself very indifferently to cheese. "She dictated this policy."
She was white with rage, and perhaps alarm; I chuckled secretly, seeing her condition. But rage availed her little; she had to humble herself. "What do you advise?" she said at last.
"There is only one course open," I answered. "We must brazen it out."