"I am at your service, madame; but, you see, I was trying to explain matters to these gentlemen, and----"

"Oh! that's all over! let's not say any more about that!" cried Bocal, grasping Balloquet's hand. "If I had had any idea that you were invited to my landlord's wedding party!--Madame, messieurs, we shall be much flattered if you will honor us with your presence, if you will deign to come to our ball.--I beg you, Monsieur Guillardin, to do me that honor.

Let me present Petronille--Pamphile, go and call Petronille.--Come, madame and messieurs, pray take a turn at our ball.--Cousin Ravinet, make our friends stand aside and make room for my landlord."

Cousin Ravinet was the little man who talked like Mr. Punch; he rushed into the room where Monsieur Girie's wedding was being celebrated, crying:

"Here comes my cousin's landlord! He's coming to our party. Bocal's bringing him.--A little music, please. I say there, you in the orchestra!"

The musicians supposed that he was calling for dance music, and they began to play a polka. Monsieur Guillardin, impelled almost by force by his tenant Monsieur Bocal, found himself in the ballroom at the rear.

Madame Dauberny and I followed him, as did Balloquet, the latter being escorted almost in triumph by the bridegroom, who had taken his arm.

"You ought to have told us right off that you were a friend--a friend of friends of ours," said Girie. "Then we wouldn't have quarrelled. As you're invited to the party of my father-in-law Bocal's landlord, why, give me your hand! I must insist on your dancing the next dance with Petronille."

"You're too kind, Monsieur Girie. As for the mistake I made in pinching your good wife----"

"Nonsense! don't say any more about that! It was a joke--just a joke!

Look you, if you're a good fellow, you'll stay with us--as long as you're enjoying yourself. Now we know each other, we'll have some sport; we'll raise the deuce. It's agreed, ain't it? You stay with us; and at supper I'll take good care of you."

"What's that? you're going to have a supper?"

"Parbleu! I should say so! What does a party amount to without supper?

You'll stay, won't you?"

"Faith! Monsieur Pamphile, you are so kind--your company is so lively; I'm tempted to let the landlord's party go by the board."

Madame Dauberny and I were walking behind them, and heard every word of their conversation. She had taken my arm as if we were old acquaintances, and she said in an undertone:

"It will be fortunate if your friend Balloquet stays here, for I think that he's a little exhilarated, and if he should come to Anna's ball he might say something that would compromise us by betraying our little fraud."

"You are entirely right, madame; but you need have no fear: Balloquet will stay here. He has been told of a supper to come, and he is one of those persons who never refuse a meal, even when they have had four during the day."

"That speaks well for his digestion.--Mon Dieu! just look: I believe that they propose to make us dance now. Monsieur Bocal is trying to induce his landlord to polk. It must be that the man's lease is nearing its end, and he wants to renew it."

The music had, in fact, excited Monsieur Bocal, who deemed it his duty to walk in step and was almost polking when he presented his landlord to his daughter Petronille, who was a plump, chubby-cheeked wench, very fresh and red, with no other recommendation than her youth.

Monsieur Guillardin took out his snuffbox and offered it to the bride, who muttered:

"Snuff! Sneeze all the time I'm dancing! I guess not! And I haven't got a handkerchief, either."

"Do you polk?" Madame Frederique asked me.

"Yes, madame."

"Very well; then let us take a turn. I prefer to make my entry dancing; it will be more amusing. Indeed, I see some faces already that make me long to laugh. Come, monsieur, they say that you waltz beautifully; let us see if you polk as well."

We started off. I was in luck that evening: after an excellent waltzer, I found myself with a partner who polked to perfection. We danced forward and backward, and turned in every direction. Our manner of dancing seemed to arouse the admiration of the company, for I heard people say as we pa.s.sed:

"Look! there's a couple who dance pretty well!"

"Just look at those two; see what pretty steps they take!"

"Who are those people?"

"They belong to the party in front, the wedding party of Monsieur Bocal's landlord's daughter; Monsieur Bocal invited them."

"They polk mighty well; they must be ballet dancers at least."

"I'll bet they belong to the Opera."

Madame Dauberny heard this last. She laughed heartily, but that did not interfere with her running comments on the wedding guests:

"Look at that couple yonder; for ten minutes they have been in the same spot; they are trying to polk, and can't go forward or back.--You will notice a tall woman in pink, in the corner at our left, with a garland of green leaves on her head; she has struck the att.i.tude of a caryatid, and seems disposed to weep.--And see those two ladies, or demoiselles, polking together, and b.u.mping into everybody.--And that little man hopping about with a tall partner."

"That's Cousin Ravinet."

"On my word, there are some sweet caricatures here! There are some very good-looking girls, but they look like grisettes; probably that's all they are. I am very curious to know what Monsieur Bocal's business is."

The music stopped. The heat was stifling in the ballroom.

"I have had enough of it," said Madame Dauberny; "besides, I believe that Monsieur Guillardin has returned to his daughter. Take me back to the other party; then you may return here, if you choose."

"I beg you to believe, madame, that I too prefer the company of which you are one."

"I believe you; I should be sorry for you if it were otherwise. But you must return and speak to your friend Balloquet. Balloquet! you must agree that that is a singular name for a physician. If I were ill, I would never put myself in the hands of a doctor named Balloquet!"

"So you think that the name is of some consequence, do you, madame?"

"Much, monsieur; if your name had been Balloquet, I could never have made up my mind to say that you were a friend of my girlhood."

While we talked, we had returned to the Guillardin party, of which I was now a duly accredited member. But as a quadrille was beginning just as we entered the ballroom, Madame Dauberny seated herself by the door, and I stood beside her, delighted to be able to continue my conversation with the amiable Frederique; for to my mind she was extremely amiable, and if I had not been in love with her friend Armantine---- But it is so pleasant to be in love, even when it amounts to nothing, and vastly more so when it may amount to something. I was still in the dark as to how it would be with my new pa.s.sion; but one is always at liberty to hope.

"I am under great obligations to you, madame, for what you have done for me to-night."

"Mon Dieu! you have already expressed your grat.i.tude, monsieur! I trust that I shall hear no more of it."

"You know now, madame, that I have sometimes met Monsieur Sordeville in society; but that is not enough for me. I should be glad to make myself known to you more fully; and if you will allow me to call and pay my respects to you----"

Madame Dauberny looked at me a moment with a strange expression; I would have liked to know what was pa.s.sing through her mind; but she soon replied, with her deliberate air:

"No, monsieur, no; I will not allow you to call on me; indeed, why should you do so?"

"Why, to have the pleasure of being with you, madame; and because I desire to make myself better known to you; and----"

"No; it's unnecessary, I tell you. I am entirely convinced, monsieur, of your good faith in all that you have told me; what more can you desire?"

"Nothing in that direction. But when one has once had the pleasure of being your escort, it is painful, madame, to think of the possibility of never seeing you again."

"Never! That is a word that ought to be stricken from the dictionary, monsieur, don't you think?"