eole,
who wore paste diamonds, and had very languishing eyes; so that Mr.
Love's heart might well swell with satisfaction at the prospect of
the various blisses to come, which might owe their origin to his
benevolence. In fact, that archpriest of the Temple of Hymen was never
more great than he was that day; never did his establishment seem more
solid, his reputation more popular, or his fortune more sure. He was the
life of the party.

The banquet over, the revellers prepared for a dance. Monsieur Goupille,
in tights, still tighter than he usually wore, and of a rich nankeen,
quite new, with striped silk stockings, opened the ball with the lady of
a rich patissier in the same Faubourg; Mr. Love took out the bride. The
evening advanced; and after several other dances of ceremony, Monsieur
Goupille conceived himself entitled to dedicate one to connubial
affection. A country-dance was called, and the epicier claimed the fair
hand of the gentle Adele. About this time, two persons not hitherto
perceived had quietly entered the room, and, standing near the doorway,
seemed examining the dancers, as if in search for some one. They bobbed
their heads up and down, to and fro stopped--now stood on tiptoe. The
one was a tall, large-whiskered, fair-haired man; the other, a little,
thin, neatly-dressed person, who kept his hand on the arm of his
companion, and whispered to him from time to time. The whiskered
gentleman replied in a guttural tone, which proclaimed his origin to be
German. The busy dancers did not perceive the strangers. The bystanders
did, and a hum of curiosity circled round; who could they be?--who had
invited them?--they were new faces in the Faubourg--perhaps relations to
Adele?

In high delight the fair bride was skipping down the middle, while
Monsieur Goupille, wiping his forehead with care, admired her agility;
when, to and behold! the whiskered gentleman I have described abruptly
advanced from his companion, and cried:

"La voila!--sacre tonnerre!"

At that voice--at that apparition, the bride halted; so suddenly indeed,
that she had not time to put down both feet, but remained with one high
in the air, while the other sustained itself on the light fantastic toe.
The company naturally imagined this to be an operatic flourish, which
called for approbation. Monsieur Love, who was thundering down behind
her, cried, "Bravo!" and as the well-grown gentleman had to make a sweep
to avoid disturbing her equilib