I protested:  “I have repeated to you, word for word, madam, what passed between us.”

“It was not your words, it was your expression, your tone.  Monsieur George, let me speak frankly with you:  are you afraid of falling in love with Madame de Palme?”

“Not in the least, madam.”

“Are you anxious that she should fall in love with you?”

“Neither, I assure you.”

“Well, then, do me a favor; lay aside your pride for one day, and escort Madame de Palme to the hunt.”

“Madam!”

“The advice may seem singular to you.  But rest assured that I do not offer it without mature reflection.  The repulsion which you manifest for Madame de Palme is precisely what attracts toward you that imperious and spoilt child.  She becomes irritated and obstinate in presence of a resistance to which she has not been accustomed.  Be meek enough to yield to her fancy.  Do that for me.”

“Seriously madam, you think?—­”

“I think,” interrupted the old lady laughingly, “with due respect to you, that you will lose your principal merit in her eyes as soon as she sees you submit to her yoke like all the rest.”

“Really, madam, you present things to me under an entirely novel aspect.  It never occurred to me to attribute Madame de Palme’s mischievous pranks to a sentiment of which I might have reason to be proud.”

“And you have been quite right,” she resumed sharply; “there is, thank heaven! nothing of the kind as yet; but it might have come and you are too fair a man to desire it, with the views which I know you to entertain.”

“I trust myself wholly to your direction, madam; I am going too fetch my hat and gloves.  The question is now, how Madame de Palme will receive my somewhat tardy civility.”

“She will receive it very well, if you offer it with good grace.”

“As to that, madam, I shall offer it with all the good grace I can command.”

On this assurance, Madame de Malouet held out her hand, which I kissed with profound respect but rather slim gratitude.

When I entered the parlor, booted and spurred, Madame de Palme was alone there; deeply seated in an arm-chair, buried under her skirts, she was putting the finishing touches to her hat.  She raised and dropped rapidly again her eyes, which were fiery red.

“Madam,” I said, “I am sincerely so sorry to have offended you, that I venture to ask your pardon for an unpardonable piece of rudeness.  I have come to hold myself at your disposition; if you decline my escort, you will not only be inflicting upon me an amply deserved mortification, but you will leave me still more unhappy than I have been guilty, and that is saying a great deal.”  Madame de Palme, taking into consideration the emotion of my voice rather more than my diplomatic pathos, lifted her eyes upon me again, opened her lips slightly, said nothing, and finally advanced a somewhat tremulous hand, which I hastened to receive within my own.  She availed herself at once of this point d’appui to get on her feet, and bounded lightly to the floor.  A few minutes later, we were both on horseback and leaving the court-yard of the chateau.