ation of saying everything that came into her head, and with a
strong French accent.

Newman had spoken with cheerful seriousness, but Madame de Bellegarde's
tone made him go on, after a meditative pause, with a certain light
grimness of jocularity. "No, I lost money on wash-tubs, but I came out
pretty square on leather."

"I have made up my mind, after all," said Madame de Bellegarde, "that
the great point is--how do you call it?--to come out square. I am on my
knees to money; I don't deny it. If you have it, I ask no questions. For
that I am a real democrat--like you, monsieur. Madame de Cintre is very
proud; but I find that one gets much more pleasure in this sad life if
one doesn't look too close."

"Just Heaven, dear madam, how you go at it," said the Count Valentin,
lowering his voice.

"He's a man one can speak to, I suppose, since my sister receives him,"
the lady answered. "Besides, it's very true; those are my ideas."

"Ah, you call them ideas," murmured the young man.

"But Mrs. Tristram told me you had been in the army--in your war," said
Madame de Cintre.

"Yes, but that is not business!" said Newman.

"Very true!" said M. de Bellegarde. "Otherwise perhaps I should not be
penniless."

"Is it true," asked Newman in a moment, "that you are so proud? I had
already heard it."

Madame de Cintre smiled. "Do you find me so?"

"Oh," said Newman, "I am no judge. If you are proud with me, you will
have to tell me. Otherwise I shall not know it."

Madame de Cintre began to laugh. "That would be pride in a sad
position!" she said.

"It would be partly," Newman went on, "because I shouldn't want to know
it. I want you to treat me well."

Madame de Cintre, whose laugh had ceased, looked at him with her head
half averted, as if she feared what he was going to say.

"Mrs. Tristram told you the literal truth," he went on; "I want very
much to know you. I didn't come here simply to call to-day; I came in
the hope that you might ask me to come again."

"Oh, pray come often," said Madame de Cintre.

"But will you be at home?" Newman insisted. Even to himself he seemed a
trifle "pushing," but he was, in truth, a trifle excited.

"I hope so!" said Madame de Cintre.

Newman got up. "Well, we shall see," he said smoothing his hat with his
coat-cuff.

"Brother," said Madame de Cintre, "invite Mr. Newman to come again."

The Count Valentin looked at our hero from head to foot with his
peculiar smile, in w