is staring at the little dancer!" went on Diane de Christeuil.

"Let the gypsy beware!" said Fleur-de-Lys, "for he loves not Egypt."

"'Tis a great shame for that man to look upon her thus," added Amelotte
de Montmichel, "for she dances delightfully."

"Fair cousin Phoebus," said Fleur-de-Lys suddenly, "Since you know this
little gypsy, make her a sign to come up here. It will amuse us."

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed all the young girls, clapping their hands.

"Why! 'tis not worth while," replied Phoebus. "She has forgotten me, no
doubt, and I know not so much as her name. Nevertheless, as you wish it,
young ladies, I will make the trial." And leaning over the balustrade of
the balcony, he began to shout, "Little one!"

The dancer was not beating her tambourine at the moment. She turned her
head towards the point whence this call proceeded, her brilliant eyes
rested on Phoebus, and she stopped short.

"Little one!" repeated the captain; and he beckoned her to approach.

The young girl looked at him again, then she blushed as though a flame
had mounted into her cheeks, and, taking her tambourine under her arm,
she made her way through the astonished spectators towards the door of
the house where Phoebus was calling her, with slow, tottering steps, and
with the troubled look of a bird which is yielding to the fascination of
a serpent.

A moment later, the tapestry portiere was raised, and the gypsy appeared
on the threshold of the chamber, blushing, confused, breathless, her
large eyes drooping, and not daring to advance another step.

Berangere clapped her hands.

Meanwhile, the dancer remained motionless upon the threshold. Her
appearance had produced a singular effect upon these young girls. It
is certain that a vague and indistinct desire to please the handsome
officer animated them all, that his splendid uniform was the target of
all their coquetries, and that from the moment he presented himself,
there existed among them a secret, suppressed rivalry, which they hardly
acknowledged even to themselves, but which broke forth, none the less,
every instant, in their gestures and remarks. Nevertheless, as they were
all very nearly equal in beauty, they contended with equal arms, and
each could hope for the victory.--The arrival of the gypsy suddenly
destroyed this equilibrium. Her beauty was so rare, that, at the moment
when she appeared at the entrance of the apartment, it seemed as though
she diffused a sort of ligh