p the show of anger that
she had wished to assume. The involuntary smile upon her lips smoothed
her forehead as a ray of sun dissipates a cloud. Thus, disposed to
clemency by reflection or fascination, it was in a very sweet and coaxing
voice that she said: "Octave, give me my slipper." Gerfaut gazed at the
lovely face bent toward him with an expression of childish entreaty, then
he glanced with an irresolute air at the trophy which he held in his
hand. This slipper, which was as small as Cinderella's, was not green,
but gray, the lining was of rose-colored silk, and the whole was so
pretty, coquettish, and dainty that it seemed impossible its owner could
be vexed with him if he examined it closely. "I will give it back to
you," said he, at last, "on condition that you will allow me to put it on
for you."

"As to that, certainly not," said she, in a sharp tone; "I should much
prefer to leave it with you and return home as I am."

Gerfaut shook his head and smiled incredulously.

"Think of your delicate lungs and of this terrible mud?"

Clemence drew her foot suddenly back under her skirt, concealing it
entirely from the sight of the young man, who gazed at it more than she
thought proper. Then she exclaimed, with the obstinacy of a spoiled
child:

"Very well! I will return hopping on one foot; I could hop very well when
I was young, I should be able to do so now."

To give more weight to this observation, she took two little jumps with a
grace and sprightliness worthy of Mademoiselle Taglioni.

Octave arose.

"I have had the pleasure of seeing you waltz," said he; "but I admit that
I shall be pleased to witness a new dance, and one executed for me
alone."

As he said these words, he pretended to conceal the innocent object of
this dispute in his blouse. The pretty dancer saw by this that a
compromise would be necessary. Recourse to concessions is often as fatal
to women as to kings; but what can one do when every other exit is
closed? Obliged by absolute necessity to accept the conditions imposed
upon her, Clemence wished at least to cover this defeat with sufficient
dignity, and escape from an awkward position with the honors of war.

"Get down upon your knees, then," she said, haughtily, "and put on my
slipper, since you exact it, and let this end this ridiculous scene. I
think you should be too proud to regard a maid's privilege as a favor."

"As a favor which a king would envy," replied Gerfaut, in a vo