eeper's niece was well worthy of
being loved on her own merits. I found her perfect, perhaps better than
Mdlle. Roman, a novice, would have been. In spite of my ardour her
passion was soon appeased, and she begged me to let her go, and I did so;
but it was quite time. I wanted to begin over again, but she was afraid
that our absence would be noticed by her two Argus-eyed cousins, so she
kissed me and left the room.

I went back to the ball-room, and we danced on till the king of
door-keepers came to tell us supper was ready.

A collation composed of the luxuries which the season and the country
afforded covered the table; but what pleased the ladies most was the
number and artistic arrangement of the wax lights.

I sat down at a small table with a few of my guests, and I received the
most pressing invitations to spend the autumn in their town. I am sure
that if I had accepted I should have been treated like a prince, for the
nobility of Grenoble bear the highest character for hospitality. I told
them that if it had been possible I should have had the greatest pleasure
in accepting their invitation, and in that case I should have been
delighted to have made the acquaintance of the family of an illustrious
gentleman, a friend of my father's.

"What name is it?" they asked me, altogether.

"Bouchenu de Valbonnais."

"He was my uncle. Ah! sir, you must come and stay with us. You danced
with my daughter. What was your father's name?"

This story, which I invented, and uttered as I was wont, on the spur of
the moment, turned me into a sort of wonder in the eyes of the worthy
people.

After we had laughed, jested, drank, and eaten, we rose from the table
and began to dance anew.

Seeing Madame Morin, her niece, and Valenglard going into the garden, I
followed them, and as we walked in the moonlight I led the fair Mdlle.
Roman through a covered alley; but all my fine speeches were in vain; I
could do nothing. I held her between my arms, I covered her with burning
kisses, but not one did she return to me, and her hands offered a
successful resistance to my hardy attempts. By a sudden effort, however,
I at last attained the porch of the temple of love, and held her in such
a way that further resistance would have been of no avail; but she
stopped me short by saying in a voice which no man of feeling could have
resisted,--

"Be my friend, sir, and not my enemy and the cause of my ruin."

I knelt before her, and takin