THE AMERICAN
The young man surrendered to gaiety, laying his hand again on a light. "It will repay your curiosity. Come then."
But Madame de Cintré rose quickly and grasped his arm. "Ah Valentin, what do you mean to do?"
"To show Mr. Newman the house. It will be very amusing to show Mr. Newman the house."
She kept her hand on his arm and turned to their visitor with a smile. "Don't let him take you; you won't find it remarkable. It is a musty old house like any other."
"Ah, not like any other," the Count still gaily protested. "It's full of curious things. Besides a visit like Mr. Newman's is just what it wants and has never had. It's a rare chance all round."
"You're very wicked, brother," Madame de Cintré insisted.
"Nothing venture, nothing have!" cried the young man. "Will you come?"
She stepped toward Newman, clasping her hands and speaking, to his sense, with an exquisite grave appeal. "Would n't you prefer my society here by my fire to stumbling about dark passages after—well, after nothing at all?"
"A hundred times! We'll see the house some other day."
The young man put down his light with mock solemnity, and, shaking his head, " Ah, you've defeated a great scheme, sir!" he sighed.
"A scheme? I don't understand," said Newman.
"You 'd have played your part in it all the better. Perhaps some day I shall have a chance to explain it."
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