how
to choose. Oh, he chooses as if he were threading a needle. He prefers
Madame de Cintre to any conceivable creature or thing."

"Well, you can't help my being her cousin," said Lord Deepmere to
Newman, with candid hilarity.

"Oh, no, I can't help that," said Newman, laughing back; "neither can
she!"

"And you can't help my dancing with her," said Lord Deepmere, with
sturdy simplicity.

"I could prevent that only by dancing with her myself," said Newman.
"But unfortunately I don't know how to dance."

"Oh, you may dance without knowing how; may you not, milord?" said
Madame de Bellegarde. But to this Lord Deepmere replied that a fellow
ought to know how to dance if he didn't want to make an ass of himself;
and at this moment Urbain de Bellegarde joined the group, slow-stepping
and with his hands behind him.

"This is a very splendid entertainment," said Newman, cheerfully. "The
old house looks very bright."

"If YOU are pleased, we are content," said the marquis, lifting his
shoulders and bending them forward.

"Oh, I suspect every one is pleased," said Newman. "How can they help
being pleased when the first thing they see as they come in is your
sister, standing there as beautiful as an angel?"

"Yes, she is very beautiful," rejoined the marquis, solemnly. "But that
is not so great a source of satisfaction to other people, naturally, as
to you."

"Yes, I am satisfied, marquis, I am satisfied," said Newman, with his
protracted enunciation. "And now tell me," he added, looking round, "who
some of your friends are."

M. de Bellegarde looked about him in silence, with his head bent and his
hand raised to his lower lip, which he slowly rubbed. A stream of people
had been pouring into the salon in which Newman stood with his host,
the rooms were filling up and the spectacle had become brilliant. It
borrowed its splendor chiefly from the shining shoulders and profuse
jewels of the women, and from the voluminous elegance of their dresses.
There were no uniforms, as Madame de Bellegarde's door was inexorably
closed against the myrmidons of the upstart power which then ruled the
fortunes of France, and the great company of smiling and chattering
faces was not graced by any very frequent suggestions of harmonious
beauty. It is a pity, nevertheless, that Newman had not been a
physiognomist, for a great many of the faces were irregularly agreeable,
expressive, and suggestive. If the occasion had been different the