s and sunk
her head.

"When one does not know how to dance, one ought not to dance," continued
the Duchesse's knight.

"Monsieur is very good to give me lessons in dancing," said Lord Kew.

"Any lessons which you please, milor!" cries Stenio; "and everywhere
where you will them."

Lord Kew looked at the little man with surprise. He could not understand
so much anger for so trifling an accident, which happens a dozen times
in every crowded ball. He again bowed to the Duchesse, and walked away.

"This is your Englishman--your Kew, whom you vaunt everywhere," said
Stenio to M. de Florac, who was standing by and witnessed the scene. "Is
he simply bete, or is he poltron as well? I believe him to be both."

"Silence, Victor!" cried Florac, seizing his arm, and drawing him away.
"You know me, and that I am neither one or the other. Believe my word,
that my Lord Kew wants neither courage nor wit!"

"Will you be my witness, Florac?" continues the other.

"To take him your excuses? yes. It is you who have insulted--"

"Yes, parbleu, I have insulted!" says the Gascon.

"--A man who never willingly offended soul alive. A man full of heart:
the most frank: the most loyal. I have seen him put to the proof, and
believe me he is all I say."

"Eh! so much the better for me!" cried the Southron. "I shall have the
honour of meeting a gallant man: and there will be two on the field."

"They are making a tool of you, my poor Gascon," said M. de Florac, who
saw Madame d'Ivry's eyes watching the couple. She presently took the arm
of the noble Count de Punter, and went for fresh air into the adjoining
apartment, where play was going on as usual; and Lord Kew and his friend
Lord Rooster were pacing the room apart from the gamblers.

My Lord Rooster, at something which Kew said, looked puzzled, and said,
"Pooh, stuff, damned little Frenchman! Confounded nonsense!"

"I was searching you, milor!" said Madame d'Ivry, in a most winning
tone, tripping behind him with her noiseless little feet. "Allow me a
little word. Your arm! You used to give it me once, mon filleul! I hope
you think nothing of the rudeness of M. de Castillonnes; he is a foolish
Gascon: he must have been too often to the buffet this evening."

Lord Kew said, No, indeed, he thought nothing of de Castillonnes'
rudeness.

"I am so glad! These heroes of the salle-d'armes have not the commonest
manners. These Gascons are always flamberge au vent. What would the
charmi