The old marquise, who was leaning back in her chair with a hand clasping the knob of each arm, looked at him fixedly without moving.
She seemed barely conscious of his greeting; she appeared to be musing intently.

Newman said to himself that her daughter had been announcing her engagement and that the old lady found the morsel hard to swallow.
But Madame de Cintre, as she gave him her hand gave him also a look by which she appeared to mean that he should understand something.

Was it a warning or a request?
Did she wish to enjoin speech or silence?
He was puzzled, and young Madame de Bellegarde's pretty grin gave him no information.
"I have not told my mother," said Madame de Cintre abruptly, looking at him.
"Told me what ?" demanded the marquise.

"You tell me too little; you should tell me everything." "That is what I do," said Madame Urbain, with a little laugh.
"Let ME tell your mother," said Newman.
The old lady stared at him again, and then turned to her daughter.

"You are going to marry him ?" she cried, softly.
"Oui ma mere," said Madame de Cintre.
"Your daughter has consented, to my great happiness," said Newman.
"And when was this arrangement made ?" asked Madame de Bellegarde.