Avonleigh felt that he ought not to talk in his character of an afflicted father. Buckingham was equally obliged to discretion as an anxious lover. De Joinville gave up speaking when he found nobody listened—their not answering he might have excused; and Madame de Soissons was quiet from pure impatience.
"Really, there is such a dead calm," at last exclaimed the Duke, "that I begin to be apprehensive of a storm: it is quite ominous. Who among us are likely to quarrel first?" glancing at the corner of the table where Hortense and Meilleraye were seated, as usual, talking in whispers, and as indifferent as they well could be to the very existence of the rest of the company.
"Quarrels!" said Charles; "do not use so disagreeable a word. I am thinking of nothing but the thanks I owe Lord Avonleigh for his hospitality"—Lord Avonleigh bent to the very edge of the table—"and the favours I am about to ask."
"It is coming," thought Marie.
"Now, your Lordship," continued Charles, "must not send me away a disappointed guest; pray allow Lady Francesca to be summoned hither. I am aware," added he, interrupting her father's attempt to speak, that "the lady's only illness is
