THE AMERICAN
revolves round his announcement even as the priest round the altar. You're accepted as a candidate for the hand of our sister."
"Valentin, be a little proper!" murmured the Marquis, the bridge of whose high nose yielded to a fold of fine irritation.
"There has been a family council," his brother nevertheless continued; "my mother and he have put their heads together, and even my testimony has not been altogether excluded. My mother and Urbain sat at a table covered with green cloth; my sister-in-law and I were on a bench against the wall. It was like a committee at the Corps Législatif. We were called up one after the other to testify. We spoke of you very handsomely. Madame de Bellegarde said that if she had not been told who you were she 'd have taken you for a duke—an American duke, the Duke of California. I said I could warrant you grateful for the smallest favours—modest, humble, unassuming. I was sure you 'd know your own place always and never give us occasion to remind you of certain differences. You could n't help it, after all, if you had not come in for a dukedom. There were none in your country; but if there had been it was certain that with your energy and ability you 'd have got the pick of the honours. At this point I was ordered to sit down, but I think I made an impression in your favour."
M. de Bellegarde looked at his brother as Newman had seen those unfortunates looked at who have told, before waiting auditors, stories of no effect. Then he removed a spark of cigar-ashes from the
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