His manners seemed to indicate a fine, nervous dread that something disagreeable might happen if the atmosphere were not purified by allusions of a thoroughly superior cast.
"What under the sun is the man afraid of?" Newman asked himself.
"Does he think I am going to offer to swap jack-knives with him?"It was useless to shut his eyes to the fact that the marquis was profoundly disagreeable to him.He had never been a man of strong personal aversions; his nerves had not been at the mercy of the mystical qualities of his neighbors.
But here was a man towards whom he was irresistibly in opposition;a man of forms and phrases and postures; a man full of possible impertinences and treacheries.M.de Bellegarde made him feel as if he were standing bare-footed on a marble floor; and yet, to gain his desire, Newman felt perfectly able to stand.
He wondered what Madame de Cintre thought of his being accepted, if accepted it was.There was no judging from her face, which expressed simply the desire to be gracious in a manner which should require as little explicit recognition as possible.
Young Madame de Bellegarde had always the same manners;she was always preoccupied, distracted, listening to everything and hearing nothing, looking at her dress, her rings, her finger-nails, seeming rather bored, and yet puzzling you to decide what was her ideal of social diversion.
Newman was enlightened on this point later.Even Valentin did not quite seem master of his wits; his vivacity was fitful and forced, yet Newman observed that in the lapses of his talk he appeared excited.His eyes had an intenser spark than usual.
The effect of all this was that Newman, for the first time in his life, was not himself; that he measured his movements, and counted his words, and resolved that if the occasion demanded that he should appear to have swallowed a ramrod, he would meet the emergency.
After dinner M.de Bellegarde proposed to his guest that they should go into the smoking-room, and he led the way toward a small, somewhat musty apartment, the walls of which were ornamented with old hangings of stamped leather and trophies of rusty arms.
Newman refused a cigar, but he established himself upon one of the divans, while the marquis puffed his own weed before the fire-place, and Valentin sat looking through the light fumes of a cigarette from one to the other.
"I can't keep quiet any longer," said Valentin, at last.
"I must tell you the news and congratulate you.
My brother seems unable to come to the point; he revolves around his announcement like the priest around the altar.
You are accepted as a candidate for the hand of our sister.""Valentin, be a little proper!" murmured the marquis, with a look of the most delicate irritation contracting the bridge of his high nose.
"There has been a family council," the young man continued;"my mother and Urbain have put their heads together, and even my testimony has not been altogether excluded.
My mother and the marquis sat at a table covered with green cloth;my sister-in-law and I were on a bench against the wall.
It was like a committee at the Corps Legislatif.
We were called up, one after the other, to testify.
We spoke of you very handsomely.Madame de Bellegarde said that if she had not been told who you were, she would have taken you for a duke--an American duke, the Duke of California.
I said that I could warrant you grateful for the smallest favors--modest, humble, unassuming.I was sure that you would know your own place, always, and never give us occasion to remind you of certain differences.After all, you couldn't help it if you were not a duke.There were none in your country;but if there had been, it was certain that, smart and active as you are, you would have got the pick of the titles.
At this point I was ordered to sit down, but I think I made an impression in your favor."M.de Bellegarde looked at his brother with dangerous coldness, and gave a smile as thin as the edge of a knife.Then he removed a spark of cigar-ash from the sleeve of his coat; he fixed his eyes for a while on the cornice of the room, and at last he inserted one of his white hands into the breast of his waistcoat.
"I must apologize to you for the deplorable levity of my brother,"he said, "and I must notify you that this is probably not the last time that his want of tact will cause you serious embarrassment.""No, I confess I have no tact," said Valentin."Is your embarrassment really painful, Newman? The marquis will put you right again;his own touch is deliciously delicate."
"Valentin, I am sorry to say," the marquis continued, "has never possessed the tone, the manner, that belongs to a young man in his position.It has been a great affliction to his mother, who is very fond of the old traditions.
But you must remember that he speaks for no one but himself.""Oh, I don't mind him, sir," said Newman, good-humoredly."Iknow what he amounts to."
"In the good old times," said Valentin, "marquises and counts used to have their appointed fools and jesters, to crack jokes for them.Nowadays we see a great strapping democrat keeping a count about him to play the fool.
It's a good situation, but I certainly am very degenerate."M.de Bellegarde fixed his eyes for some time on the floor.
"My mother informed me," he said presently, "of the announcement that you made to her the other evening.""That I desired to marry your sister?" said Newman.
"That you wished to arrange a marriage," said the marquis, slowly, "with my sister, the Comtesse de Cintre.The proposal was serious, and required, on my mother's part, a great deal of reflection.
She naturally took me into her counsels, and I gave my most zealous attention to the subject.There was a great deal to be considered;more than you appear to imagine.We have viewed the question on all its faces, we have weighed one thing against another.
Our conclusion has been that we favor your suit.
My mother has desired me to inform you of our decision.