ntenance, twisted the diamond he wore on his
left hand; the rainbow fires of the gem seemed to flash a sudden light
on the young Countess' mind; she blushed and looked at the Baron with an
undefinable expression.

"Do you like dancing?" asked the Provencal, to reopen the conversation.

"Yes, very much, monsieur."

At this strange reply their eyes met. The young man, surprised by the
earnest accent, which aroused a vague hope in his heart, had suddenly
questioned the lady's eyes.

"Then, madame, am I not overbold in offering myself to be your partner
for the next quadrille?"

Artless confusion colored the Countess' white cheeks.

"But, monsieur, I have already refused one partner--a military man----"

"Was it that tall cavalry colonel whom you see over there?"

"Precisely so."

"Oh! he is a friend of mine; feel no alarm. Will you grant me the favor
I dare hope for?"

"Yes, monsieur."

Her tone betrayed an emotion so new and so deep that the lawyer's
world-worn soul was touched. He was overcome by shyness like a
schoolboy's, lost his confidence, and his southern brain caught fire;
he tried to talk, but his phrases struck him as graceless in comparison
with Madame de Soulanges' bright and subtle replies. It was lucky for
him that the quadrille was forming. Standing by his beautiful partner,
he felt more at ease. To many men dancing is a phase of being; they
think that they can more powerfully influence the heart of woman by
displaying the graces of their bodies than by their intellect. Martial
wished, no doubt, at this moment to put forth all his most effective
seductions, to judge by the pretentiousness of his movements and
gestures.

He led his conquest to the quadrille in which the most brilliant
women in the room made it a point of chimerical importance to dance in
preference to any other. While the orchestra played the introductory
bars to the first figure, the Baron felt it an incredible gratification
to his pride to perceive, as he reviewed the ladies forming the lines of
that formidable square, that Madame de Soulanges' dress might challenge
that even of Madame de Vaudremont, who, by a chance not perhaps
unsought, was standing with Montcornet _vis-a-vis_ to himself and the
lady in blue. All eyes were for a moment turned on Madame de Soulanges;
a flattering murmur showed that she was the subject of every man's
conversation with his partner. Looks of admiration and envy centered
on her, with so much e