Oh, my dear lady," murmured Newman, looking down the path to see if the
others were not coming.

"I shall be good-natured," said Madame de Bellegarde. "One must not ask
too much of a gentleman who is in love with a cloistered nun. Besides,
I can't go to Bullier's while we are in mourning. But I haven't given it
up for that. The partie is arranged; I have my cavalier. Lord Deepmere,
if you please! He has gone back to his dear Dublin; but a few months
hence I am to name any evening and he will come over from Ireland, on
purpose. That's what I call gallantry!"

Shortly after this Madame de Bellegarde walked away with her little
girl. Newman sat in his place; the time seemed terribly long. He felt
how fiercely his quarter of an hour in the convent chapel had raked
over the glowing coals of his resentment. Madame de Bellegarde kept him
waiting, but she proved as good as her word. At last she reappeared at
the end of the path, with her little girl and her footman; beside her
slowly walked her husband, with his mother on his arm. They were a long
time advancing, during which Newman sat unmoved. Tingling as he was
with passion, it was extremely characteristic of him that he was able
to moderate his expression of it, as he would have turned down a flaring
gas-burner. His native coolness, shrewdness, and deliberateness, his
life-long submissiveness to the sentiment that words were acts and acts
were steps in life, and that in this matter of taking steps
curveting and prancing were exclusively reserved for quadrupeds
and foreigners--all this admonished him that rightful wrath had no
connection with being a fool and indulging in spectacular violence. So
as he rose, when old Madame de Bellegarde and her son were close to
him, he only felt very tall and light. He had been sitting beside some
shrubbery, in such a way as not to be noticeable at a distance; but M.
de Bellegarde had evidently already perceived him. His mother and he
were holding their course, but Newman stepped in front of them, and they
were obliged to pause. He lifted his hat slightly, and looked at them
for a moment; they were pale with amazement and disgust.

"Excuse me for stopping you," he said in a low tone, "but I must profit
by the occasion. I have ten words to say to you. Will you listen to
them?"

The marquis glared at him and then turned to his mother. "Can Mr. Newman
possibly have anything to say that is worth our listening to?"

"I assure you I have so