Yes, Sabine might yet be his, but between the lovers stood the forms of Croisenois and his associates. But now he felt strong enough to contend with them all.
Just then, however, he heard a sound of ringing laughter outside his door. He could distinguish a woman’s voice, and also a man’s, speaking in high, shrill tones. All at once his door burst open, and a hurricane of silks, velvets, feathers, and lace whirled in. With extreme surprise, the young artist recognized the beautiful features of Rose, _alias_ Zora de Chantemille. Gaston de Gandelu followed her, and at once began,--
“Here we are,” said he, “all right again. Did you expect to see us?”
“Ah! well, it is a little surprise of the governor’s. On my word, I really will be a dutiful son for the future. To-day, the good old boy came into my room, and said, ‘This morning I took the necessary steps to release the person in whom you are interested. Go and meet her.’ What do you think of that? So off I ran to find Zora, and here we are.”
Andre did not pay much attention to Gaston, but was engaged in watching Zora, who was looking round the studio. She went up to Sabine’s portrait, and was about to draw the curtain, when Andre exclaimed,--
“Excuse me,” said he; “I must put this picture to dry.” And as the portrait stood on a moveable easel, he wheeled it into the adjoining room.
“And now,” said Gaston, “I want you to come and breakfast with us to celebrate Zora’s happy release.”
“I am much obliged to you, but it is impossible. I must get on with my work.”
“Yes, yes; work is an excellent thing, but just now you must go and dress.”
“I assure you that it is quite out of the question. I cannot leave the studio yet.”
Gaston paused for a moment in deep thought.
“I have it,” said he triumphantly. “You will not come to breakfast; then breakfast shall come to you. I am off to order it.”
Andre ran after him, but Gaston was too quick, and he returned to the studio in anything but an amiable temper. Zora noticed his evident annoyance.
“He always goes on in this absurd way,” said she, with a shrug of her pretty shoulders, “and thinks himself so clever and witty, bah!”
Her tone disclosed such contempt for Gaston that Andre looked at her in perplexed surprise.