THE AMERICAN
Madame de Cintré looked across at the old Marquise, measuring her from head to foot. Then she spoke again with simplicity. "I 'm afraid of my mother."
Madame de Bellegarde rose with a certain quickness. "This is a most indecent scene!"
"I 've no wish to prolong it," said Madame de Cintré; and, turning to the door, she put out her hand again. "If you can pity me a little, let me go alone."
Newman held her quietly and firmly. "I 'll come right down there." The portière dropped behind her, and he 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, their heads high and their handsome eyebrows arched. "So you make a distinction?" he went on at last. "You make a distinction between persuading and commanding? It 's very neat. But the distinction's in favour of commanding. That rather spoils it."
"We've not the least objection to defining our position," said M. de Bellegarde. "We quite understand that it should n't at first appear to you altogether clear. We rather expect indeed that you 'll not do us justice."
"Oh, I 'll do you justice," said Newman. "Don't be afraid. Only give me a chance!"
The Marquise laid her hand on her son's arm as if to deprecate the attempt to marshal reasons or to meet their friend again, on any ground, too inti-
367
