“Good evening, sir; a thousand pardons for not having observed you before.”
M. de Montbrison, perceiving that he had really failed in politeness, turned around instantly, and said cordially to the vicomte:
“Really, sir, I am ashamed; but I hope that my cousin, who caused my forgetfulness, will be my excuse, and—”
“Conrad,” interposed the duchess, immeasurably annoyed at Florestan’s impudence, persisting as he did in remaining, as it were, to brave her,—“Conrad, that will do; make no apologies; it is not worth while.”
M. de Montbrison, believing that his cousin was reproaching him in joke for being somewhat too formal, said, in a gay tone, to the vicomte, who was livid with rage:
“I will not say more, sir, since my cousin forbids me. You see her guardianship has begun.”
“And will not
