THE AMERICAN
too proud; but I would n't change him. He's the best of my children; he cleaves to his old mother. I 've said, in any case, enough to show you that we are all very much aware of ourselves and very absurd and rather impossible together. It's well you should know the sort of people you have come among."
"Well," said Newman, "I can only say that I hope I'm as little like you then as may be. But though I don't think I'm easy to scare, you speak as if you quite intended to be as disagreeable as you know how."
His hostess fixed him a moment. "I shall not enjoy it if my daughter decides to marry you, and I shall not pretend to enjoy it. If you don't mind that, so much the better."
"If you stick to your own side of the contract we shall not quarrel; that's all I ask of you," Newman replied. "Keep your hands off—I shall mind my own business. I'm very much in earnest and there's not the slightest danger of my getting discouraged or backing out. You 'll have me constantly before your eyes, so that if you don't like it I'm sorry for you. I 'll do for your daughter, if she 'll accept me, everything that a man can do for a woman. I'm happy to tell you that, as a promise—a pledge. I consider that on your side you take an equally definite engagement. You 'll not back out, eh?"
"I don't know what you mean by 'backing out,'" said the Marquise with no small majesty. "It suggests a movement of which I think no Bellegarde has ever been guilty."
234
