“Let me hear it again, distinctly,” said Bellegarde. “It’s very important, you know. I shall plead your cause with my sister, because you want—you want to marry her? That’s it, eh?”
“Oh, I don’t say plead my cause, exactly; I shall try and do that myself. But say a good word for me, now and then—let her know that you think well of me.”
At this, Bellegarde gave a little light laugh.
“What I want chiefly, after all,” Newman went on, “is just to let you know what I have in mind. I suppose that is what you expect, isn’t it? I want to do what is customary over here. If there is anything particular to be done, let me know and I will do it. I wouldn’t for the world approach Madame de Cintré without all the proper forms. If I ought to go and tell your mother, why I will go and tell her. I will go and tell your brother, even. I will go and tell anyone you please. As I don’t know anyone else, I begin by telling you. But that, if it is a social obligation, is a pleasure as well.”
“Yes, I see—I see,” said Bellegarde, lightly stroking his chin. “You have a very right feeling about it, but I’m glad you have begun with me.” He paused, hesitated, and then turned away and walked slowly the length of the room. Newman got up and stood leaning against the mantel-shelf, with his hands in his pockets, watching Bellegarde’s promenade. The young Frenchman came back and stopped in front of him. “I give it up,” he said; “I will not pretend I am not surprised. I am—hugely! Ouf! It’s a relief.”
“That sort of news is always a surprise,” said Newman. “No matter what you have done, people are never prepared. But if you are so surprised, I hope at least you are pleased.”
“Come!” said Bellegarde. “I am going to be tremendously frank. I don’t know whether I am pleased or horrified.”
“If you are pleased, I shall be glad,” said Newman, “and I shall be—encouraged. If you are horrified, I shall be sorry, but I shall not be discouraged. You must make the best of it.”
“That is quite right—that is your only possible attitude. You are perfectly serious?”
“Am I a Frenchman, that I should not be?” asked Newman. “But why is it, by the bye, that you should be horrified?”