ove; I'll sing it under my breath to the air of the violins,"
and, her hand in his, she took the first slow, dainty step in the
old-time dance, humming the words as they moved forward:

"Gravement
Noblement
On s'avance;
On fait trois pas de cote
Deux battus, un jete
Sans rompre la cadence----"

Then whispered, smiling:

"You are quite perfect, Duane; keep your head level, dear:

"Chassez
Rechassez
En mesure!
Saluez--
Gravement
Noblement
On s'avance
Sans rompre la cadence.

"Quite perfect, my handsome cavalier! Oh, we are doing it most
beautifully"--with a deep, sweeping reverence; then rising, as he lifted
her finger-tips: "You are stealing the rest of my heart," she said.

"Our betrothal dance," he whispered. "Shall it be so, dear?"

They looked at each other as though they stood there alone; the lovely
old air of the Menuet d'Exaudet seemed to exhale from the tremulous
violins like perfume floating through the woods; figures of masked
dancers passed and repassed them through the orange-tinted glow; there
came a vast rustle of silk, a breezy murmur, the scented wind from
opening fans, the rattle of swords, and the Menuet d'Exaudet ended with
a dull roll of kettle-drums.

A few minutes later he had her in his arms in a deliciously wild waltz,
a swinging, irresponsible, gipsy-like thing which set the blood coursing
and pulses galloping.

Every succeeding dance she gave to him. Now and then a tiny cloud of
powder-dust floated from her hair; a ribbon from her shoulder-knot
whipped his face; her breath touched his lips; her voice, at intervals,
thrilled and caressed his ears, a soft, breathless voice, which mounting
exaltation had made unsteadily sweet.

"You know--dear--I'm dancing every dance with you--in the teeth of
decency, the face of every convention, and defiance of every law of
hospitality. I belong to my guests."

And again:

"Do you know, Duane, there's a sort of a delicious madness coming over
me. I'm all trembling under my skin with the overwhelming happiness of
it all. I tell you it's intoxicating me because I don't know how to
endure it."

He caught fire at her emotion; her palm was burning in his, her breath
came irregularly, lips and cheeks were aflame, as they came to a
breathless halt in the torchlight.

"Dear," she faltered, "I simply _must_ be decent to my guests.... I'm
dying to dance with you again, but I can'