In this interval Achille arose, dressed with some care, and calling Annette’s maid, left with her his “remembrances for madame, and the assurance that he would be home for dinner.” Annette did not believe the message. She asked for the hour, and decided there was yet a possibility of finding her uncle Bloommaert at his home. While she hastily dressed, her carriage was prepared, and she reached the Bowling Green house just as the judge was descending the steps. She arrested him midway. “Uncle,” she sobbed, “I am in trouble about Achille. I want you to help me.” “What is the matter with Achille? Have you been scolding? Has he run away from you?” “I cannot bear jokes this morning, uncle. I think Achille has gone to fight a duel.” “Nonsense!” “Yes, I am sure he is going to fight that low creature, Horace Gilson. You know----” “Twofold nonsense. He has nothing to do with the man. That is Leonard Murray’s business.” “But Leonard came to Achille on Sunday night. He was full of shame and anger about every one passing him without recognition; and I am sure he must have deserved the slight, or Doctor and Mrs. Stevens and Mr. Fisher would not have done so--on a Sunday, just coming out of church, too, when people ought to feel friendly.” “Come, come, Annette, this is all foolishness, and I am in no mood for it this morning. If Leonard has been insulted, he knows how to right himself--and that, without Achille’s help. Gilson is a low, scurrilous creature, and I hope Leonard will give him a lesson.” “Uncle! Uncle! You must not go away without helping me.” “Good gracious, Annette! What am I to do? What can I do? If Achille wishes to stand by Leonard in this matter, nothing I can say will prevent it. And, by George, I do not intend to say anything! As for Achille fighting Gilson, that is absurd. Leonard Murray is no special favourite of mine, but I am sure he is a young man who can do his own fighting, and who will let no one else do it for him. Leonard will fight Gilson, if fighting is necessary.” “But, uncle, you ought not to put me off in this way. I shall go to grandmother and tell her.” “Well, Annette, that is a dreadful threat--but you will find your grandmother no more sympathetic, in this case, than I am.” “_So!_ Perhaps, however, you will attend to what aunt Carlita says. Come into the house and let us ask her.” “I will not waste any more time, Annette; nor will I sanction you annoying your aunt this morning. She has had one of her worst headaches all night long, and has just fallen on sleep. Do not attempt to awaken her. And you must say nothing unpleasant to Sappha. She is worried already, and she has been up with her mother all night. Do have self-control enough to keep your ridiculous fears to yourself--or if you cannot, then go to your grandmother, or better still, go home. Home is the proper place for foolish women, full of their own fears and fancies.”