Gustave sat for a long while at the foot of the tree, which was bare of leaves; for it was late in October. He reviewed in his mind the whole of Fanny's conduct during the last two days, and wondered if his uncle were right after all. At last he rose and returned to Paris. It was nearly eleven o'clock when he reached the young widow's door. But he could wait no longer; he rang the bell violently, and the maid ushered him into her mistress's presence.
Fanny was sitting by the fire, in a dainty morning gown; for she was a woman who never allowed herself to be surprised in déshabillé; but her expression was cold and stern, as of a person who had made up her mind and was prepared for a rupture.
"I have come a little early, I fear," said Gustave, taking a seat, and seeking in vain an affable smile on the widow's features; "but you will surely forgive my impatience, I was so anxious to see you. I had almost no chance to speak to you last night, and I had so many things to say!"
"I, too, wished to speak with you, monsieur. I, too, have several things to say to you."
"_Monsieur!_ What! you call me _monsieur?_ What does that mean?"
"In heaven's name, let us not quibble over words. If I call you _monsieur_ now, I do so in consequence of certain reflections I have made since yesterday. Do you know that I don't like to be followed, spied upon; that a jealous man is an unendurable creature to me?"
"Ah! you are trying to quarrel with me, madame?"
"No, I am not; but I am telling you frankly the subject of my reflections; and the result of those reflections is----"
"Is that I am afraid that I shall not make you happy, Gustave. I am naturally giddy, frivolous,--but I cannot change,--and my temperament would not harmonize at all with yours. Consequently we shall do much better not to marry. Oh! I have come to this decision solely in my solicitude for your happiness."
Gustave sprang to his feet so suddenly that the little widow could not restrain a gesture of terror. He took his stand in front of her, with folded arms, and gazed sternly at her, saying:
"So this is what you were aiming at--a rupture! And you dare to accuse me of spying, to try to put me in the wrong! to accuse me, when my conduct was simply the consequence of your own! Oh! don't think to deceive me again. Some other motive is behind your action. You have formed other plans."