“You have commanded, monsieur,” replied Raoul, “and I obey.”

“Commanded!” cried Athos.  “Is it thus you reply to me?  I have commanded you!  Oh! you distort my words as you misconceive my intentions.  I do not command you; I request you.”

“No, monsieur, you have commanded,” said Raoul, persistently; “had you requested me, your request is even more effective than your order.  I have not seen Mademoiselle de la Valliere again.”

“But you are unhappy! you are unhappy!” insisted Athos.

Raoul made no reply.

“I find you pale; I find you dull.  The sentiment is strong, then?”

“It is a passion,” replied Raoul.

“No — a habit.”

“Monsieur, you know I have traveled much, that I have passed two years far away from her.  A habit would yield to an absence of two years, I believe; whereas, on my return, I loved not more, that was impossible, but as much.  Mademoiselle de la Valliere is for me the one lady above all others; but you are for me a god upon earth — to you I sacrifice everything.”

“You are wrong,” said Athos; “I have no longer any right over you.  Age has emancipated you; you no longer even stand in need of my consent.  Besides, I will not refuse my consent after what you have told me.  Marry Mademoiselle de la Valliere, if you like.”

Raoul was startled, but suddenly:  “You are very kind, monsieur,” said he; “and your concession excites my warmest gratitude, but I will not accept it.”

“Then you now refuse?”

“Yes, monsieur.”

“I will not oppose you in anything, Raoul.”

“But you have at the bottom of your heart an idea against this marriage:  it is not your choice.”

“That is true.”

“That is sufficient to make me resist:  I will wait.”

“Beware, Raoul!  What you are now saying is serious.”

“I know it is, monsieur; as I said, I will wait.”

“Until I die?” said Athos, much agitated.

“Oh! monsieur,” cried Raoul, with tears in his eyes, “is it possible that you should wound my heart thus?  I have never given you cause of complaint!”

“Dear boy, that is true,” murmured Athos, pressing his lips violently together to conceal the emotion of which he was no longer master.  “No, I will no longer afflict you; only I do not comprehend what you mean by waiting.  Will you wait till you love no longer?”

“Ah! for that! — no, monsieur.  I will wait till you change your opinion.”

“I should wish to put the matter to a test, Raoul; I should like to see if Mademoiselle de la Valliere will wait as you do.”

“I hope so, monsieur.”

“But, take care, Raoul! suppose she did not wait?  Ah, you are young, so confiding, so loyal!  Women are changeable.”

“You have never spoken ill to me of women, monsieur; you have never had to complain of them; why should you doubt of Mademoiselle de la Valliere?”