surprise and fright. No one
danced any more, but looked at us. And he held me so close, and his face
was so near my face, his lips so near my lips, that all at once I felt
myself giving way. I slipped, and let myself into his arms. A cloud
passed before my eyes; I could not speak nor think; then blankness.
Everything had disappeared before me in a vertigo not too disagreeable,
I must say. I had fainted, absolutely fainted."

"The next day our marriage was decided, perfectly decided. Our waltz had
caused scandal. That was just what I wanted."

"There, Aunt Louise, is the history of our marriage, and I want to-day
to draw this conclusion: it is that I was the first to begin to love,
and I shall have, consequently, one day, when it pleases me, the right
to stop the first."

"Ah, no, indeed; tell her, Aunt Louise, that she will never have that
right--"

A new quarrel threatened to break out.

"This, my children," said the old aunt, "is all I have to say: she did,
in truth, start the first to love; but it seems to me, Gontran, that you
started all at once at such a great pace that you must have caught up
with her."

"Passed her, Aunt Louise."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Marceline.

"Oh yes--"

"Oh no--"

"Well," continued Aunt Louise, "try never to have any other quarrels
than that one. Try to walk always in life step by step, side by side,
and heart to heart. I have seen many inventions since I was born, and
the world is no longer what it was then. But there is one thing to which
inventions have made no difference, and never will. That thing you have;
keep it. It is love! Love each other, children, as strongly and as long
as possible."

And Aunt Louise wept another tear, and smiled on looking at the portrait
of the officer of the Royal Guard.

THE DANCING-MASTER

I was dining at the house of some friends, and in the course of the
evening the hostess said to me:

"Do you often go to the opera?"

"Yes, very often."

"And do you go behind the scenes?"

"Yes, I go behind."

"Then you can do me a favor. In the ballet department there's an old man
called Morin, who is perfectly respectable, it seems. He is the little
B----'s dancing-master. He gives excellent lessons. I should like to
have him for my little girls, so ask him if he could come twice a week."

I willingly undertook the delicate mission.

The next day, February 17, 1881, about ten in the evening, I arrived at
the opera, and went behind