"_Mon père_, it may be that Louise, like myself, possesses the instincts of a woman," said Marie, fighting on her sister's behalf; "be not hard upon her; maybe----"
"Let me speak, Marie," said Louise. "_Mon père_, it is certain that this Baron d'Estreville must be very angry with us all, and wishes to fight. I have an idea. The Baron knows nothing of Michel Prevost, that he and I are one. He is determined, it seems, to see me. Send me with a message, that you will have no man but Prevost for a son-in-law, and that if the Baron would aspire to claim your daughter, he must fight this Michel Prevost for her. Now the Baron is but a poor fencer, and it is certain that I, as Michel, would soon better him in a set-to with our rapiers."
"_Parbleu!_" exclaimed old Dupré, "it is good--it is excellent! _Sapristi_, my daughter, you are a genius in diplomacy as well as in arms! Listen to her, Marie, and learn! And you would have set her down to become this wretched fellow's drudge. _Mort de ma vie_, Louise, I thank the Almighty that you are not as your sister would believe you to be! Yes, yes, go down, _chérie_, and arrange this matter--it is good! But stay, declare first that Marie has spoken nonsense--that you have forgotten your woman's instincts--that glory and the career come first in your estimation, that----"
"Father, at any rate I am not yet ready to be a woman; the time may come, soon or late, I will make no promises. At present let it be as I have said. The Baron is offended and would fight--_volontiers_! I am ready; he shall fight Michel for Louise!"
Louise laughed gaily and ran from the room. She hastened to her own chamber, where she quickly donned her own dress, the fencing costume of old days when she still acted as her father's assistant. All this occupied some time, and Henri's patience was almost exhausted when at last she opened the door and presented herself before him.
D'Estreville caught the girl in his arms and covered her face with kisses. Louise abandoned herself to his embraces, making no effort to resist, and conscious of no desire to do so. On the contrary, she felt in that precious moment that she wished for nothing better in this world, no greater happiness, no more perfect peace than to belong body and soul to this man. D'Estreville let her go presently.