xtremely obliged to you, sir, but it is not of myself I was
thinking. I only wanted, if I might take the liberty, to recommend you
to lose no time."

"Whom are you afraid of?"

Mrs. Bread looked up the staircase and then down and then she looked at
the undusted nymph, as if she possibly had sentient ears. "I am afraid
of every one," she said.

"What an uncomfortable state of mind!" said Newman. "Does 'every one'
wish to prevent my marriage?"

"I am afraid of already having said too much," Mrs. Bread replied. "I
won't take it back, but I won't say any more." And she took her way up
the staircase again and led him into Madame de Cintre's salon.

Newman indulged in a brief and silent imprecation when he found that
Madame de Cintre was not alone. With her sat her mother, and in the
middle of the room stood young Madame de Bellegarde, in her bonnet and
mantle. The old marquise, who was leaning back in her chair with a hand
clasping the knob of each arm, looked at him fixedly without moving.
She seemed barely conscious of his greeting; she appeared to be musing
intently. Newman said to himself that her daughter had been announcing
her engagement and that the old lady found the morsel hard to swallow.
But Madame de Cintre, as she gave him her hand gave him also a look by
which she appeared to mean that he should understand something. Was it
a warning or a request? Did she wish to enjoin speech or silence? He
was puzzled, and young Madame de Bellegarde's pretty grin gave him no
information.

"I have not told my mother," said Madame de Cintre abruptly, looking at
him.

"Told me what?" demanded the marquise. "You tell me too little; you
should tell me everything."

"That is what I do," said Madame Urbain, with a little laugh.

"Let ME tell your mother," said Newman.

The old lady stared at him again, and then turned to her daughter. "You
are going to marry him?" she cried, softly.

"Oui ma mere," said Madame de Cintre.

"Your daughter has consented, to my great happiness," said Newman.

"And when was this arrangement made?" asked Madame de Bellegarde. "I
seem to be picking up the news by chance!"

"My suspense came to an end yesterday," said Newman.

"And how long was mine to have lasted?" said the marquise to her
daughter. She spoke without irritation; with a sort of cold, noble
displeasure.

Madame de Cintre stood silent, with her eyes on the ground. "It is over
now," she said.

"Where is my son--where is