, but from
what he could see the young man's eloquence had no other auditor.
Newman at last made his way out, and in doing so he passed beneath the
baignoire of Mademoiselle Noemie. She saw him as he approached and gave
him a nod and smile which seemed meant as an assurance that she was
still a good-natured girl, in spite of her enviable rise in the world.
Newman passed into the foyer and walked through it. Suddenly he paused
in front of a gentleman seated on one of the divans. The gentleman's
elbows were on his knees; he was leaning forward and staring at the
pavement, lost apparently in meditations of a somewhat gloomy cast. But
in spite of his bent head Newman recognized him, and in a moment
sat down beside him. Then the gentleman looked up and displayed the
expressive countenance of Valentin de Bellegarde.

"What in the world are you thinking of so hard?" asked Newman.

"A subject that requires hard thinking to do it justice," said Valentin.
"My immeasurable idiocy."

"What is the matter now?"

"The matter now is that I am a man again, and no more a fool than usual.
But I came within an inch of taking that girl au serieux."

"You mean the young lady below stairs, in a baignoire in a pink dress?"
said Newman.

"Did you notice what a brilliant kind of pink it was?" Valentin
inquired, by way of answer. "It makes her look as white as new milk."

"White or black, as you please. But you have stopped going to see her?"

"Oh, bless you, no. Why should I stop? I have changed, but she hasn't,"
said Valentin. "I see she is a vulgar little wretch, after all. But she
is as amusing as ever, and one MUST be amused."

"Well, I am glad she strikes you so unpleasantly," Newman rejoiced. "I
suppose you have swallowed all those fine words you used about her
the other night. You compared her to a sapphire, or a topaz, or an
amethyst--some precious stone; what was it?"

"I don't remember," said Valentin, "it may have been to a carbuncle! But
she won't make a fool of me now. She has no real charm. It's an awfully
low thing to make a mistake about a person of that sort."

"I congratulate you," Newman declared, "upon the scales having fallen
from your eyes. It's a great triumph; it ought to make you feel better."

"Yes, it makes me feel better!" said Valentin, gayly. Then, checking
himself, he looked askance at Newman. "I rather think you are laughing
at me. If you were not one of the family I would take it up."

"Oh, no, I'm