Madame recoiled, and put her hands to her ears, horror stamped on her handsome face.  Her massive bosom heaved.

“Oh, how can you?” she panted.  “How can you make use of such terrible expressions?  Wherever have you learnt them?”

“In church,” said Aline.

“Ah, but in church many things are said that... that one would not dream of saying in the world.  My dear child, how could I possibly say such a thing to M. le Marquis?  How could I possibly?”

“Shall I say it?”

“Aline!”

“Well, there it is,” said Aline.  “Something must be done to shelter me from insult.  I am utterly disgusted with M. le Marquis — a disgusting man.  And however fine a thing it may be to become Marquise de La Tour d’Azyr, why, frankly, I’d sooner marry a cobbler who practised decency.”

Such was her vehemence and obvious determination that Mme. de Sautron fetched herself out of her despair to attempt persuasion.  Aline was her niece, and such a marriage in the family would be to the credit of the whole of it.  At all costs nothing must frustrate it.

“Listen, my dear,” she said.  “Let us reason.  M. le Marquis is away and will not be back until to-morrow.”

“True.  And I know where he has gone — or at least whom he has gone with.  Mon Dieu, and the drab has a father and a lout of a fellow who intends to make her his wife, and neither of them chooses to do anything.  I suppose they agree with you, madame, that a great gentleman must have his little distractions.”  Her contempt was as scorching as a thing of fire.  “However, madame, you were about to say?”

“That on the day after to-morrow you are returning to Gavrillac.  M. de La Tour d’Azyr will most likely follow at his leisure.”

“You mean when this dirty candle is burnt out?”

“Call it what you will.”  Madame, you see, despaired by now of controlling the impropriety of her niece’s expressions.  “At Gavrillac there will be no Mlle. Binet.  This thing will be in the past.  It is unfortunate that he should have met her at such a moment.  The chit is very attractive, after all.  You cannot deny that.  And you must make allowances.”

“M. le Marquis formally proposed to me a week ago.  Partly to satisfy the wishes of the family, and partly... " She broke off, hesitating a moment, to resume on a note of dull pain, “Partly because it does not seem greatly to matter whom I marry, I gave him my consent.  That consent, for the reasons I have given you, madame, I desire now definitely to withdraw.”

Madame fell into agitation of the wildest.  “Aline, I should never forgive you!  Your uncle Quintin would be in despair.  You do not know what you are saying, what a wonderful thing you are refusing.  Have you no sense of your position, of the station into which you were born?”

“If I had not, madame, I should have made an end long since.  If I have tolerated this suit for a single moment, it is because I realize the importance of a suitable marriage in the worldly sense.  But I ask of marriage something more; and Uncle Quintin has placed the decision in my hands.”