He stood watching her, and she presently turned round again, but this time she did not look at him, and she spoke in a quietness in which there was a visible trace of effort.
"There are a great many reasons why I should not marry," she said, "more than I can explain to you.As for my happiness, I am very happy.
Your offer seems strange to me, for more reasons also than I can say.
Of course you have a perfect right to make it.But I cannot accept it--it is impossible.Please never speak of this matter again.
If you cannot promise me this, I must ask you not to come back.""Why is it impossible?" Newman demanded."You may think it is, at first, without its really being so.I didn't expect you to be pleased at first, but I do believe that if you will think of it a good while, you may be satisfied.""I don't know you," said Madame de Cintre."Think how little I know you.""Very little, of course, and therefore I don't ask for your ultimatum on the spot.I only ask you not to say no, and to let me hope.
I will wait as long as you desire.Meanwhile you can see more of me and know me better, look at me as a possible husband--as a candidate--and make up your mind."
Something was going on, rapidly, in Madame de Cintre's thoughts;she was weighing a question there, beneath Newman's eyes, weighing it and deciding it."From the moment I don't very respectfully beg you to leave the house and never return," she said, "I listen to you, I seem to give you hope.I HAVE listened to you--against my judgment.
It is because you are eloquent.If I had been told this morning that Ishould consent to consider you as a possible husband, I should have thought my informant a little crazy.I AM listening to you, you see!"And she threw her hands out for a moment and let them drop with a gesture in which there was just the slightest expression of appealing weakness.
"Well, as far as saying goes, I have said everything," said Newman.
"I believe in you, without restriction, and I think all the good of you that it is possible to think of a human creature.
I firmly believe that in marrying me you will be SAFE.
As I said just now," he went on with a smile, "I have no bad ways.
I can DO so much for you.And if you are afraid that I am not what you have been accustomed to, not refined and delicate and punctilious, you may easily carry that too far.I AM delicate!
You shall see!"
Madame de Cintre walked some distance away, and paused before a great plant, an azalea, which was flourishing in a porcelain tub before her window.
She plucked off one of the flowers and, twisting it in her fingers, retraced her steps.Then she sat down in silence, and her attitude seemed to be a consent that Newman should say more.
"Why should you say it is impossible you should marry?" he continued.
"The only thing that could make it really impossible would be your being already married.Is it because you have been unhappy in marriage?
That is all the more reason! Is it because your family exert a pressure upon you, interfere with you, annoy you? That is still another reason;you ought to be perfectly free, and marriage will make you so.
I don't say anything against your family--understand that!" added Newman, with an eagerness which might have made a perspicacious observer smile.
"Whatever way you feel toward them is the right way, and anything that you should wish me to do to make myself agreeable to them I will do as well as I know how.Depend upon that!"Madame de Cintre rose again and came toward the fireplace, near which Newman was standing.The expression of pain and embarrassment had passed out of her face, and it was illuminated with something which, this time at least, Newman need not have been perplexed whether to attribute to habit or to intention, to art or to nature.
She had the air of a woman who has stepped across the frontier of friendship and, looking around her, finds the region vast.
A certain checked and controlled exaltation 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.
