aid of my mother," she said.

Madame de Bellegarde rose with a certain quickness, crying, "This is a
most indecent scene!"

"I have no wish to prolong it," said Madame de Cintre; and turning to
the door she put out her hand again. "If you can pity me a little, let
me go alone."

Newman shook her hand quietly and firmly. "I'll come down there," he
said. The portiere dropped behind her, and Newman sank with a long
breath into the nearest chair. He leaned back in it, resting his hands
on the knobs of the arms and looking at Madame de Bellegarde and Urbain.
There was a long silence. They stood side by side, with their heads high
and their handsome eyebrows arched.

"So you make a distinction?" Newman said at last. "You make a
distinction between persuading and commanding? It's very neat. But the
distinction is in favor of commanding. That rather spoils it."

"We have not the least objection to defining our position," said M. de
Bellegarde. "We understand that it should not at first appear to you
quite clear. We rather expected, indeed, that you should not do us
justice."

"Oh, I'll do you justice," said Newman. "Don't be afraid. Please
proceed."

The marquise laid her hand on her son's arm, as if to deprecate the
attempt to define their position. "It is quite useless," she said, "to
try and arrange this matter so as to make it agreeable to you. It can
never be agreeable to you. It is a disappointment, and disappointments
are unpleasant. I thought it over carefully and tried to arrange it
better; but I only gave myself a headache and lost my sleep. Say what
we will, you will think yourself ill-treated, and you will publish your
wrongs among your friends. But we are not afraid of that. Besides, your
friends are not our friends, and it will not matter. Think of us as you
please. I only beg you not to be violent. I have never in my life
been present at a violent scene of any kind, and at my age I can't be
expected to begin."

"Is THAT all you have got to say?" asked Newman, slowly rising out of
his chair. "That's a poor show for a clever lady like you, marquise.
Come, try again."

"My mother goes to the point, with her usual honesty and intrepidity,"
said the marquis, toying with his watch-guard. "But it is perhaps well
to say a little more. We of course quite repudiate the charge of having
broken faith with you. We left you entirely at liberty to make yourself
agreeable to my sister. We left her quite at liberty to