"Of course I must work my way myself.I know that very well;I only want a chance to.In consenting to see me, after what he told you, you almost seem to be giving me a chance.""I am seeing you," said Madame de Cintre, slowly and gravely, "because I promised my brother I would.""Blessings on your brother's head!" cried Newman."What I told him last evening was this: that I admired you more than any woman I had ever seen, and that I should like immensely to make you my wife."He uttered these words with great directness and firmness, and without any sense of confusion.He was full of his idea, he had completely mastered it, and he seemed to look down on Madame de Cintre, with all her gathered elegance, from the height of his bracing good conscience.It is probable that this particular tone and manner were the very best he could have hit upon.
Yet the light, just visibly forced smile with which his companion had listened to him died away, and she sat looking at him with her lips parted and her face as solemn as a tragic mask.
There was evidently something very painful to her in the scene to which he was subjecting her, and yet her impatience of it found no angry voice.Newman wondered whether he was hurting her;he could not imagine why the liberal devotion he meant to express should be disagreeable.He got up and stood before her, leaning one hand on the chimney-piece."I know I have seen you very little to say this," he said, "so little that it may make what I say seem disrespectful.That is my misfortune! I could have said it the first time I saw you.Really, I had seen you before;I had seen you in imagination; you seemed almost an old friend.
So what I say is not mere gallantry and compliments and nonsense--I can't talk that way, I don't know how, and I wouldn't, to you, if I could.It's as serious as such words can be.I feel as if Iknew you and knew what a beautiful, admirable woman you are.
I shall know better, perhaps, some day, but I have a general notion now.
You are just the woman I have been looking for, except that you are far more perfect.I won't make any protestations and vows, but you can trust me.It is very soon, I know, to say all this;it is almost offensive.But why not gain time if one can?
And if you want time to reflect--of course you do--the sooner you begin, the better for me.I don't know what you think of me;but there is no great mystery about me; you see what I am.
Your brother told me that my antecedents and occupations were against me;that your family stands, somehow, on a higher level than I do.
That is an idea which of course I don't understand and don't accept.
But you don't care anything about that.I can assure you that I am a very solid fellow, and that if I give my mind to it I can arrange things so that in a very few years I shall not need to waste time in explaining who I am and what I am.
You will decide for yourself whether you like me or not.
What there is you see before you.I honestly believe I have no hidden vices or nasty tricks.I am kind, kind, kind!
Everything that a man can give a woman I will give you.
I have a large fortune, a very large fortune; some day, if you will allow me, I will go into details.If you want brilliancy, everything in the way of brilliancy that money can give you, you shall have.And as regards anything you may give up, don't take for granted too much that its place cannot be filled.
Leave that to me; I'll take care of you; I shall know what you need.
Energy and ingenuity can arrange everything.I'm a strong man!
There, I have said what I had on my heart! It was better to get it off.I am very sorry if it's disagreeable to you;but think how much better it is that things should be clear.
Don't answer me now, if you don't wish it.Think about it, think about it as slowly as you please.Of course I haven't said, I can't say, half I mean, especially about my admiration for you.
But take a favorable view of me; it will only be just."During this speech, the longest that Newman had ever made, Madame de Cintre kept her gaze fixed upon him, and it expanded at the last into a sort of fascinated stare.
When he ceased speaking she lowered her eyes and sat for some moments looking down and straight before her.
Then she slowly rose to her feet, and a pair of exceptionally keen eyes would have perceived that she was trembling a little in the movement.She still looked extremely serious.
"I am very much obliged to you for your offer," she said.
"It seems very strange, but I am glad you spoke without waiting any longer.It is better the subject should be dismissed.
I appreciate all you say; you do me great honor.
But I have decided not to marry."
"Oh, don't say that!" cried Newman, in a tone absolutely naif from its pleading and caressing cadence.She had turned away, and it made her stop a moment with her back to him.
"Think better of that.You are too young, too beautiful, too much made to be happy and to make others happy.If you are afraid of losing your freedom, I can assure you that this freedom here, this life you now lead, is a dreary bondage to what I will offer you.
You shall do things that I don't think you have ever thought of.
I will take you anywhere in the wide world that you propose.
Are you unhappy? You give me a feeling that you are unhappy.
You have no right to be, or to be made so.Let me come in and put an end to it."Madame de Cintre stood there a moment longer, looking away from him.
If she was touched by the way he spoke, the thing was conceivable.
His voice, always very mild and interrogative, gradually became as soft and as tenderly argumentative as if he had been talking to a much-loved child.
