"This dear Louis!" repeated Charles. "My only relative in all the
world. My cousin, Louis d'Arragon. But he, par exemple, spells his
name in two words."

The man bowed gravely--a comprehensive bow; but he looked at
Desiree.

"This is my father-in-law," continued Charles breathlessly.
"Monsieur Antoine Sebastian, and Desiree and Mathilde--my wife, my
dear Louis--your cousin, Desiree."

He had turned again to Louis and shook him by the shoulders in the
fulness of his joy. He had not distinguished between Mathilde and
Desiree, and it was towards Mathilde that D'Arragon looked with a
polite and rather formal repetition of his bow.

"It is I . . . I am Desiree," said the younger sister, coming
forward with a slow gesture of shyness.

D'Arragon took her hand.

"I have been happy," he said, "in the moment of my arrival."

Then he turned to Mathilde and bowed over the hand she held out to
him. Sebastian had come forward with a sudden return of his
gracious and rather old-world manner. He did not offer to shake
hands, but bowed.

"A son of Louis d'Arragon who was fortunate enough to escape to
England?" he inquired with a courteous gesture.