returned my passion as far as she could. They kept such a tight rein on
her that she could do very little, and when I left the convent she had
to give me up. I was not of her monde; I am not now, either, but we
sometimes meet. They are terrible people--her monde; all mounted upon
stilts a mile high, and with pedigrees long in proportion. It is the
skim of the milk of the old noblesse. Do you know what a Legitimist
is, or an Ultramontane? Go into Madame de Cintre's drawing-room
some afternoon, at five o'clock, and you will see the best preserved
specimens. I say go, but no one is admitted who can't show his fifty
quarterings."

"And this is the lady you propose to me to marry?" asked Newman. "A lady
I can't even approach?"

"But you said just now that you recognized no obstacles."

Newman looked at Mrs. Tristram a while, stroking his mustache. "Is she a
beauty?" he demanded.

"No."

"Oh, then it's no use--"

"She is not a beauty, but she is beautiful, two very different things. A
beauty has no faults in her face, the face of a beautiful woman may have
faults that only deepen its charm."

"I remember Madame de Cintre, now," said Tristram. "She is as plain as a
pike-staff. A man wouldn't look at her twice."