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"My dear Thaddeus," said his uncle, "have you been scalded with

boiling water, or are you dodging like a hunted fox that waves

its brush in one direction and itself runs in another? We have

challenged him, to be sure, and you will have to fight, but why

are you so bent on going to-day? Before a duel it is the custom

to send friends and settle the terms; the Count may still beg our

pardon and make amends: just wait, there is still time enough.

Some other whimsy must be driving you away from here; speak it

out frankly: why such excuses? I am your uncle, and, though old,

I know what young hearts are; I have been a father to you." (As

he spoke he stroked his nephew beneath the chin.) "My little

finger has already been whispering in my ear that you, sir, have

been carrying on some intrigues here with the ladies. Nowadays

young men take to the ladies devilish quick. But, my dear

Thaddeus, confess it to me, and frankly."