I thought you promised me you wouldn't interfere.
I thought you swore on your honor that you wouldn't interfere.
Don't you remember, marquis?"
The marquis lifted his eyebrows; but he was apparently determined to be even more urbane than usual.He rested his two hands upon the back of his mother's chair and bent forward, as if he were leaning over the edge of a pulpit or a lecture-desk.He did not smile, but he looked softly grave.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, "I assured you that I would not influence my sister's decision.I adhered, to the letter, to my engagement.
Did I not, sister?"
"Don't appeal, my son," said the marquise, "your word is sufficient.""Yes--she accepted me," said Newman."That is very true, I can't deny that.
At least," he added, in a different tone, turning to Madame de Cintre, "you DID accept me?"Something in the tone seemed to move her strongly.
She turned away, burying her face in her hands.
"But you have interfered now, haven't you?" inquired Newman of the marquis.
"Neither then nor now have I attempted to influence my sister.
I used no persuasion then, I have used no persuasion to-day.""And what have you used?"
"We have used authority,"' said Madame de Bellegarde in a rich, bell-like voice.
"Ah, you have used authority," Newman exclaimed."They have used authority," he went on, turning to Madame de Cintre.
"What is it? how did they use it?"
"My mother commanded," said Madame de Cintre.
"Commanded you to give me up--I see.And you obey--I see.
But why do you obey?" asked Newman.
Madame de Cintre looked across at the old marquise;her eyes slowly measured her from head to foot.
"I am afraid of my mother," she said.
Madame de Bellegarde rose with a certain quickness, crying, "This is a most indecent scene!""I have no wish to prolong it," said Madame de Cintre;and turning to the door she put out her hand again.
"If you can pity me a little, let me go alone."Newman shook her hand quietly and firmly."I'll come down there," he said.
The portiere dropped behind her, and Newman sank with a long breath into the nearest chair.He leaned back in it, resting his hands on the knobs of the arms and looking at Madame de Bellegarde and Urbain.
There was a long silence.They stood side by side, with their heads high and their handsome eyebrows arched.
"So you make a distinction?" Newman said at last.
"You make a distinction between persuading and commanding?
It's very neat.But the distinction is in favor of commanding.
That rather spoils it."
"We have not the least objection to defining our position,"said M.de Bellegarde."We understand that it should not at first appear to you quite clear.We rather expected, indeed, that you should not do us justice.""Oh, I'll do you justice," said Newman."Don't be afraid.
Please proceed."
The marquise laid her hand on her son's arm, as if to deprecate the attempt to define their position."It is quite useless,"she said, "to try and arrange this matter so as to make it agreeable to you.It can never be agreeable to you.
It is a disappointment, and disappointments are unpleasant.
I thought it over carefully and tried to arrange it better;but I only gave myself a headache and lost my sleep.
Say what we will, you will think yourself ill-treated, and you will publish your wrongs among your friends.
But we are not afraid of that.Besides, your friends are not our friends, and it will not matter.Think of us as you please.
I only beg you not to be violent.I have never in my life been present at a violent scene of any kind, and at my age Ican't be expected to begin."
"Is THAT all you have got to say?" asked Newman, slowly rising out of his chair."That's a poor show for a clever lady like you, marquise.Come, try again.""My mother goes to the point, with her usual honesty and intrepidity,"said the marquis, toying with his watch-guard."But it is perhaps well to say a little more.We of course quite repudiate the charge of having broken faith with you.We left you entirely at liberty to make yourself agreeable to my sister.
We left her quite at liberty to entertain your proposal.
When she accepted you we said nothing.We therefore quite observed our promise.It was only at a later stage of the affair, and on quite a different basis, as it were, that we determined to speak.
It would have been better, perhaps, if we had spoken before.
But really, you see, nothing has yet been done.""Nothing has yet been done?" Newman repeated the words, unconscious of their comical effect.He had lost the sense of what the marquis was saying;M.de Bellegarde's superior style was a mere humming in his ears.All that he understood, in his deep and simple indignation, was that the matter was not a violent joke, and that the people before him were perfectly serious.
"Do you suppose I can take this?" he asked."Do you suppose it can matter to me what you say? Do you suppose I can seriously listen to you?
You are simply crazy!"
Madame de Bellegarde gave a rap with her fan in the palm of her hand.
"If you don't take it you can leave it, sir.It matters very little what you do.My daughter has given you up.""She doesn't mean it," Newman declared after a moment.
"I think I can assure you that she does," said the marquis.
"Poor woman, what damnable thing have you done to her?" cried Newman.
"Gently, gently!" murmured M.de Bellegarde.
"She told you," said the old lady."I commanded her."Newman shook his head, heavily."This sort of thing can't be, you know," he said."A man can't be used in this fashion.
You have got no right; you have got no power.""My power," said Madame de Bellegarde, "is in my children's obedience.""In their fear, your daughter said.There is something very strange in it.Why should your daughter be afraid of you?"added Newman, after looking a moment at the old lady.
"There is some foul play."
The marquise met his gaze without flinching, and as if she did not hear or heed what he said."I did my best," she said, quietly.
"I could endure it no longer."
"It was a bold experiment!" said the marquis.
