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These, presumably, were tokens of violent emotion, and it seemed to Newman that the traces of corresponding agitation were visible in Madame de Cintre's face. The two had been talking with much vivacity. "What I should tell you is only to my lord's credit," said Madame de Cintre, smiling frankly enough. "He wouldn't like it any better for that!" said my lord, with his awkward laugh.
"In most cases," Newman answered, "your objection would have some weight, even admitting that Madame de Cintre's present intentions make time precious. But I have thought of what you speak of, and I have come here to-day without scruple simply because I consider your brother and you two very different parties. I see no connection between you. Your brother was ashamed of you.
At first Newman was bewildered almost stunned by the strangeness of the sound; then, as he comprehended its meaning, he listened intently and his heart began to throb. He listened for Madame de Cintre's voice, and in the very heart of the tuneless harmony he imagined he made it out. It was hideous, it was horrible; as it continued, Newman felt that he needed all his self-control.
Tristram's drawing-room; four months had elapsed, and he had not forgotten them yet. He had looked he had made a point of looking into a great many other eyes in the interval, but the only ones he thought of now were Madame de Cintre's. If he wanted to see more of the world, should he find it in Madame de Cintre's eyes? He would certainly find something there, call it this world or the next.
And she led the way upstairs. At the top of the staircase she paused and fixed her dry, sad eyes upon Newman. "Be very easy with her," she said; "she is most unhappy!" Then she went on to Madame de Cintre's apartment; Newman, perplexed and alarmed, followed her rapidly. Mrs. Bread threw open the door, and Newman pushed back the curtain at the farther side of its deep embrasure.
"I am afraid of every one," she said. "What an uncomfortable state of mind!" said Newman. "Does 'every one' wish to prevent my marriage?" "I am afraid of already having said too much," Mrs. Bread replied. "I won't take it back, but I won't say any more." And she took her way up the staircase again and led him into Madame de Cintre's salon.
"It's handsome!" said Newman. "I should think it was! Of course you will go and see her." "To-morrow!" cried Newman. "No, not to-morrow; the next day. That will be Sunday; she leaves Paris on Monday. If you don't see her; it will at least be a beginning." And she gave him Madame de Cintre's address.
But he put the question without acrimony, for he felt that Madame de Cintre's brother was a good fellow, and he had a presentiment that on this basis of good fellowship they were destined to understand each other. Only, if there was anything to laugh at, he wished to have a glimpse of it too. "To begin with," said the young man, as he extended his hand, "have I come too late?"
Sunday was as yet two days off; but meanwhile, to beguile his impatience, Newman took his way to the Avenue de Messine and got what comfort he could in staring at the blank outer wall of Madame de Cintre's present residence. The street in question, as some travelers will remember, adjoins the Parc Monceau, which is one of the prettiest corners of Paris.
Go into Madame de Cintre's drawing-room some afternoon, at five o'clock, and you will see the best preserved specimens. I say go, but no one is admitted who can't show his fifty quarterings." "And this is the lady you propose to me to marry?" asked Newman. "A lady I can't even approach?" "But you said just now that you recognized no obstacles." Newman looked at Mrs.
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