M. de Bellegarde made him feel as if he were standing
bare-footed on a marble floor; and yet, to gain his desire, Newman felt
perfectly able to stand. He wondered what Madame de Cintre thought of
his being accepted, if accepted it was. There was no judging from her
face, which expressed simply the desire to be gracious in a manner which
should require as little explicit recognition as possible. Young Madame
de Bellegarde had always the same manners; she was always preoccupied,
distracted, listening to everything and hearing nothing, looking at
her dress, her rings, her finger-nails, seeming rather bored, and yet
puzzling you to decide what was her ideal of social diversion. Newman
was enlightened on this point later. Even Valentin did not quite seem
master of his wits; his vivacity was fitful and forced, yet Newman
observed that in the lapses of his talk he appeared excited. His eyes
had an intenser spark than usual. The effect of all this was that
Newman, for the first time in his life, was not himself; that he
measured his movements, and counted his words, and resolved that if the
occasion demanded that he should appear to have swallowed a ramrod, he
would meet the emergency.

After dinner M. de Bellegarde proposed to his guest that they should go
into the smoking-room, and he led the way toward a small, somewhat
musty apartment, the walls of which were ornamented with old hangings of
stamped leather and trophies of rusty arms. Newman refused a cigar, but
he established himself upon one of the divans, while the marquis puffed
his own weed before the fire-place, and Valentin sat looking through the
light fumes of a cigarette from one to the other.

"I can't keep quiet any longer," said Valentin, at last. "I must tell
you the news and congratulate you. My brother seems unable to come to
the point; he revolves around his announcement like the priest around
the altar. You are accepted as a candidate for the hand of our sister."

"Valentin, be a little proper!" murmured the marquis, with a look of the
most delicate irritation contracting the bridge of his high nose.

"There has been a family council," the young man continued; "my mother
and Urbain have put their heads together, and even my testimony has
not been altogether excluded. My mother and the marquis sat at a table
covered with green cloth; my sister-in-law and I were on a bench against
the wall. It was like a committee at the Corps Legislatif. We were
called up