THE AMERICAN
sleeve of his coat; he fixed his eyes for a while on the cornice of the room, and at last he inserted one of his white hands into the breast of his waistcoat. "I must apologise to you for Valentin's inveterate bad taste, as well as notify you that this is probably not the last time that his want of tact will cause you serious embarrassment."
"No, I confess, I've no tact," said Valentin. "Is your embarrassment really serious, Newman? Urbain will put you right again; he'll know just how you feel."
"My brother, I'm sorry to say," the Marquis pursued, "has never had the real sense of his duties or his opportunities—of what one must after all call his position. It has been a great pain to his mother, who's very fond of the old traditions. But you must remember that he speaks for no one but himself."
"Oh, I don't mind him, sir—Newman was all good-humour. "I know what the Valentines of this world amount to."
"In the good old times," the young man said, "marquises and counts used to have their appointed buffoons and jesters to crack jokes for them. Nowadays we see a great strapping democrat keeping one of us, as Urbain would say, about him to play the fool. It's a good situation, but I certainly am very degenerate."
The Marquis fixed his eyes for some time on the floor. "My mother has let me know," he presently resumed, "of the announcement that you made her the other evening."
"That I want so much to marry your sister?"
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