He more than suspected that the Bellegardes were keeping quiet about it, and allowing it, in their select circle, but a limited resonance; and it pleased him to think that if he were to take the trouble he might, as he phrased it, break all the windows.No man likes being repudiated, and yet Newman, if he was not flattered, was not exactly offended.
He had not this good excuse for his somewhat aggressive impulse to promulgate his felicity; his sentiment was of another quality.
He wanted for once to make the heads of the house of Bellegarde FEEL him; he knew not when he should have another chance.
He had had for the past six months a sense of the old lady and her son looking straight over his head, and he was now resolved that they should toe a mark which he would give himself the satisfaction of drawing.
"It is like seeing a bottle emptied when the wine is poured too slowly,"he said to Mrs.Tristram."They make me want to joggle their elbows and force them to spill their wine."To this Mrs.Tristram answered that he had better leave them alone and let them do things in their own way."You must make allowances for them,"she said."It is natural enough that they should hang fire a little.
They thought they accepted you when you made your application;but they are not people of imagination, they could not project themselves into the future, and now they will have to begin again.
But they are people of honor, and they will do whatever is necessary."Newman spent a few moments in narrow-eyed meditation.
"I am not hard on them," he presently said, "and to prove it I will invite them all to a festival.""To a festival?"
"You have been laughing at my great gilded rooms all winter;I will show you that they are good for something.
I will give a party.What is the grandest thing one can do here?
I will hire all the great singers from the opera, and all the first people from the Theatre Francais, and I will give an entertainment.""And whom will you invite?"
"You, first of all.And then the old lady and her son.
And then every one among her friends whom I have met at her house or elsewhere, every one who has shown me the minimum of politeness, every duke of them and his wife.
And then all my friends, without exception: Miss Kitty Upjohn, Miss Dora Finch, General Packard, C.P Hatch, and all the rest.
And every one shall know what it is about, that is, to celebrate my engagement to the Countess de Cintre.
What do you think of the idea?"
"I think it is odious!" said Mrs.Tristram.And then in a moment:
"I think it is delicious!"
The very next evening Newman repaired to Madame de Bellegarde's salon.
where he found her surrounded by her children, and invited her to honor his poor dwelling by her presence on a certain evening a fortnight distant.
The marquise stared a moment."My dear sir," she cried, "what do you want to do to me?""To make you acquainted with a few people, and then to place you in a very easy chair and ask you to listen to Madame Frezzolini's singing.""You mean to give a concert?"
"Something of that sort."
"And to have a crowd of people?"
"All my friends, and I hope some of yours and your daughter's.
I want to celebrate my engagement."
It seemed to Newman that Madame de Bellegarde turned pale.
She opened her fan, a fine old painted fan of the last century, and looked at the picture, which represented a fete champetre--a lady with a guitar, singing, and a group of dancers round a garlanded Hermes.
"We go out so little, murmured the marquis, "since my poor father's death.""But MY dear father is still alive, my friend," said his wife.
"I am only waiting for my invitation to accept it,"and she glanced with amiable confidence at Newman.
"It will be magnificent; I am very sure of that."I am sorry to say, to the discredit of Newman's gallantry, that this lady's invitation was not then and there bestowed;he was giving all his attention to the old marquise.
She looked up at last, smiling."I can't think of letting you offer me a fete," she said, "until I have offered you one.
We want to present you to our friends; we will invite them all.
We have it very much at heart.We must do things in order.
Come to me about the 25th; I will let you know the exact day immediately.We shall not have any one so fine as Madame Frezzolini, but we shall have some very good people.
After that you may talk of your own fete." The old lady spoke with a certain quick eagerness, smiling more agreeably as she went on.
It seemed to Newman a handsome proposal, and such proposals always touched the sources of his good-nature.He said to Madame de Bellegarde that he should be glad to come on the 25th or any other day, and that it mattered very little whether he met his friends at her house or at his own.
I have said that Newman was observant, but it must be admitted that on this occasion he failed to notice a certain delicate glance which passed between Madame de Bellegarde and the marquis, and which we may presume to have been a commentary upon the innocence displayed in that latter clause of his speech.
Valentin de Bellegarde walked away with Newman that evening, and when they had left the Rue de l'Universite some distance behind them he said reflectively, "My mother is very strong--very strong."Then in answer to an interrogative movement of Newman's he continued, "She was driven to the wall, but you would never have thought it.
Her fete of the 25th was an invention of the moment.
She had no idea whatever of giving a fete, but finding it the only issue from your proposal, she looked straight at the dose--excuse the expression--and bolted it, as you saw, without winking.
She is very strong."
"Dear me!" said Newman, divided between relish and compassion.
"I don't care a straw for her fete, I am willing to take the will for the deed.""No, no," said Valentin, with a little inconsequent touch of family pride.
"The thing will be done now, and done handsomely."
