tion
seemed mingled with the usual level radiance of her glance. "I will not
refuse to see you again," she said, "because much of what you have said
has given me pleasure. But I will see you only on this condition: that
you say nothing more in the same way for a long time."

"For how long?"

"For six months. It must be a solemn promise."

"Very well, I promise."

"Good-by, then," she said, and extended her hand.

He held it a moment, as if he were going to say something more. But he
only looked at her; then he took his departure.

That evening, on the Boulevard, he met Valentin de Bellegarde. After
they had exchanged greetings, Newman told him that he had seen Madame de
Cintre a few hours before.

"I know it," said Bellegarde. "I dined in the Rue de l'Universite."
And then, for some moments, both men were silent. Newman wished to ask
Bellegarde what visible impression his visit had made and the Count
Valentin had a question of his own. Bellegarde spoke first.

"It's none of my business, but what the deuce did you say to my sister?"

"I am willing to tell you," said Newman, "that I made her an offer of
marriage."

"Already!" And the young man gave a whistle. "'Time is money!' Is
that what you say in America? And Madame de Cintre?" he added, with an
interrogative inflection.

"She did not accept my offer."

"She couldn't, you know, in that way."

"But I'm to see her again," said Newman.

"Oh, the strangeness of woman!" exclaimed Bellegarde. Then he stopped,
and held Newman off at arms'-length. "I look at you with respect!"
he exclaimed. "You have achieved what we call a personal success!
Immediately, now, I must present you to my brother."

"Whenever you please!" said Newman.

CHAPTER X

Newman continued to see his friends the Tristrams with a good deal of
frequency, though if you had listened to Mrs. Tristram's account of the
matter you would have supposed that they had been cynically repudiated
for the sake of grander acquaintance. "We were all very well so long
as we had no rivals--we were better than nothing. But now that you have
become the fashion, and have your pick every day of three invitations to
dinner, we are tossed into the corner. I am sure it is very good of you
to come and see us once a month; I wonder you don't send us your cards
in an envelope. When you do, pray have them with black edges; it will be
for the death of my last illusion." It was in this incisive strain that
Mrs.