as instantly and as completely as anything could. He sat bolt upright on the sofa, while Pembroke with a half smile of contempt in his face that really exasperated Madame Koller more than poor Cole had done, listened to her tirade. What a virago the woman was, to be sure. But how handsome she was too!
"Pembroke," said poor Cole, rising and coming forward, looking quite pale and desperate, "don't try to excuse me. I don't deserve any excuse. I mean to write to the bishop to-morrow and make a clean breast of it—and any punishment he may inflict, or any mortification I may have to endure because of this, I'll take like a man. Madame Koller, I humbly ask your pardon. I hardly knew what I was doing."
"To get drunk in my house," was Madame Koller's reply.
"Hardly that," said Pembroke, quietly. "Made drunk by your precious cousin, Ahlberg."
"I'll send Louis away if you desire me," cried Madame Koller, eagerly.
"I desire nothing of the kind. It is no affair of mine. Come, Cole, you've done the best you could by apologizing. I'll see that those fellows say nothing about it. Good evening, Madame Koller."
"Must you go, Pembroke—now—"
"Immediately. Good-bye," and in two minutes he and Cole were out of the house.
