’ ‘That was hardly the impression I got,’ Gerald murmured, remembering Melusine’s attitude to Leonardo. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. "Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it was my lot to fall into the hands of another,—my father's own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon; to whom, and to the Cardinal Dubois, I owed all my good fortune. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.
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