第71章

"We have been prepared," he said at last "but it is inevitable that in face of the event one should experience a certain emotion."And he gave a most unhilarious smile.

"I feel no emotion that I was not perfectly prepared for,"said his mother.

"I can't say that for myself," said Newman, smiling but differently from the marquis."I am happier than I expected to be.

I suppose it's the sight of your happiness!""Don't exaggerate that," said Madame de Bellegarde, getting up and laying her hand upon her daughter's arm.

"You can't expect an honest old woman to thank you for taking away her beautiful, only daughter.""You forgot me, dear madame," said the young marquise demurely.

"Yes, she is very beautiful," said Newman.

"And when is the wedding, pray?" asked young Madame de Bellegarde;"I must have a month to think over a dress.""That must be discussed," said the marquise.

"Oh, we will discuss it, and let you know!" Newman exclaimed.

"I have no doubt we shall agree," said Urbain.

"If you don't agree with Madame de Cintre, you will be very unreasonable.""Come, come, Urbain," said young Madame de Bellegarde, "I must go straight to my tailor's."The old lady had been standing with her hand on her daughter's arm, looking at her fixedly.She gave a little sigh, and murmured, "No, I did NOT expect it! You are a fortunate man," she added, turning to Newman, with an expressive nod.

"Oh, I know that!" he answered."I feel tremendously proud.

I feel like crying it on the housetops,--like stopping people in the street to tell them."Madame de Bellegarde narrowed her lips."Pray don't," she said.

"The more people that know it, the better," Newman declared.

"I haven't yet announced it here, but I telegraphed it this morning to America.""Telegraphed it to America?" the old lady murmured.

"To New York, to St.Louis, and to San Francisco; those are the principal cities, you know.To-morrow I shall tell my friends here.""Have you many?" asked Madame de Bellegarde, in a tone of which Iam afraid that Newman but partly measured the impertinence.

"Enough to bring me a great many hand-shakes and congratulations.

To say nothing," he added, in a moment, "of those I shall receive from your friends.""They will not use the telegraph," said the marquise, taking her departure.

M.de Bellegarde, whose wife, her imagination having apparently taken flight to the tailor's, was fluttering her silken wings in emulation, shook hands with Newman, and said with a more persuasive accent than the latter had ever heard him use, "You may count upon me."Then his wife led him away.

Valentin stood looking from his sister to our hero.

"I hope you both reflected seriously," he said.

Madame de Cintre smiled."We have neither your powers of reflection nor your depth of seriousness; but we have done our best.""Well, I have a great regard for each of you," Valentin continued.

"You are charming young people.But I am not satisfied, on the whole, that you belong to that small and superior class--that exquisite group composed of persons who are worthy to remain unmarried.

These are rare souls; they are the salt of the earth.But I don't mean to be invidious; the marrying people are often very nice.""Valentin holds that women should marry, and that men should not,"said Madame de Cintre."I don't know how he arranges it.""I arrange it by adoring you, my sister," said Valentin ardently.

"Good-by."

"Adore some one whom you can marry," said Newman.

"I will arrange that for you some day.I foresee that I am going to turn apostle."Valentin was on the threshold; he looked back a moment with a face that had turned grave."I adore some one I can't marry!" he said.

And he dropped the portiere and departed.

"They don't like it," said Newman, standing alone before Madame de Cintre.

"No," she said, after a moment; "they don't like it.""Well, now, do you mind that?" asked Newman.

"Yes!" she said, after another interval.

"That's a mistake."

"I can't help it.I should prefer that my mother were pleased.""Why the deuce," demanded Newman, "is she not pleased?

She gave you leave to marry me."

"Very true; I don't understand it.And yet I do 'mind it,' as you say.

You will call it superstitious."

"That will depend upon how much you let it bother you.

Then I shall call it an awful bore."

"I will keep it to myself," said Madame de Cintre, "It shall not bother you."And then they talked of their marriage-day, and Madame de Cintre assented unreservedly to Newman's desire to have it fixed for an early date.

Newman's telegrams were answered with interest.

Having dispatched but three electric missives, he received no less than eight gratulatory bulletins in return.

He put them into his pocket-book, and the next time he encountered old Madame de Bellegarde drew them forth and displayed them to her.

This, it must be confessed, was a slightly malicious stroke;the reader must judge in what degree the offense was venial.

Newman knew that the marquise disliked his telegrams, though he could see no sufficient reason for it.Madame de Cintre, on the other hand, liked them, and, most of them being of a humorous cast, laughed at them immoderately, and inquired into the character of their authors.Newman, now that his prize was gained, felt a peculiar desire that his triumph should be manifest.