Now, madame, if you will proceed
with the indictment."
The duchess seemed a little shaken; after all, a man who could play with
great hotels demanded some consideration!
"The second reason is even more serious," she said, "at least, my nephew
seemed to so consider it. He laughed at the first one; he is still
young; he still believes in the nonsense of the romancers."
"Does he?" commented Rushford. "That's one point in his favour,
certainly. So he would have married my daughter, would he, even though I
did keep a hotel! That was kind of him! What's the next count, madame?"
"It is that your daughter, while pretending to be his advocate, was
really in the plot against him--a double traitor to him because posing
as his friend."
"In the plot?" cried Cranford. "But that's absurd! She was not in the
plot!"
"Is it the head of the plot who is addressing me?" inquired the duchess,
icily. "No doubt my nephew has already told you--"
The Prince stopped her.
"The Viscount Cranford answers to me," he said, briefly.
The duchess paled as she looked at him.
"Not that, Fritz!" she cried. "Not that!"
"Too late, madame," he said. "My honour demands it."
The duchess shivered, and her face seemed suddenly to shrink and age.
Then she stood proudly upright. What honour demanded she would be the
last to evade.
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