Luxury and notoriety, high-stepping horses, yellow-
haired mistresses, all vanished. He pictured himself reduced to a
mere pittance, and held in check and domineered over by a brutal
father. "Ah! I understand your game," he hissed through his set
teeth. "If you would only quietly assert your rights, everything
could be arranged privately, and I should have time to put the
property out of my father's reach before he could claim it.
Instead of doing that--as you hate me--you compel me to make the
affair public, so that my father will hear of it and defraud me of
everything. But you won't play this trick on me. You are going
to write at once, and make known your claim to your brother's
estate."
"No."
"Ah! you won't? You refuse----" He approached threateningly, and
caught hold of her arm. "Take care!" he vociferated; "take care!
Do not infuriate me beyond endurance----"
As cold and rigid as marble, Madame d'Argeles faced him with the
undaunted glance of a martyr whose spirit no violence can subdue.
"You will obtain nothing from me," she said, firmly; "nothing,
nothing, nothing!"
Maddened with rage and disappointment, M. Wilkie dared to lift his
hand as if about to strike her. But at this moment the door was
flung open, and a man sprang upon him. It was Baron Trigault.
Like the other guests, the baron had seen the terrible effect
produced upon Madame d'Argeles by a simple visiting card.
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