the pauses in
the dance, that it might be ready to the moment--a little attention
which called forth exclamations of pleasure from both Madame Roquet and
Monsieur Robineau, and touched with something like a gleam of
satisfaction even the grim visage of Monsieur Robineau's wife.

Dalrymple took the head of the table, and stirred the punch into leaping
tongues of blue flame till it looked like a miniature Vesuvius.

"What diabolical-looking stuff!" I exclaimed. "You might, to all
appearance, be Lucifer's own cupbearer."

"A proof that it ought to be devilish good," replied Dalrymple, ladling
it out into the glasses. "Allow me, ladies and gentlemen, to propose the
health, happiness, and prosperity of the bride and bridegroom. May they
never die, and may they be remembered for ever after!"

We all laughed as if this was the best joke we had heard in our lives,
and Dalrymple filled the glasses up again.

"What, in the name of all that's mischievous, can have become of
Sullivan?" said he to me. "I have not caught so much as a glimpse of him
for the last hour."

"When I last saw him, he was dancing."

"Yes, with a pretty little dark-eyed girl in a blue dress. By Jove! that
fellow will be getting into trouble if left to himself!"

"But the girl has her mother with her!"

"All the stronger probability of a scrimmage," replied Dalrymple,
sipping his punch with a covert glance of salutation at Suzette.

"Shall I see if they are among the dancers?"

"Do--but make haste; for the punch is disappearing fast."

I left them, and went back to the platform where the indefatigable
public was now engaged in the performance of quadrilles. Never, surely,
were people so industrious in the pursuit of pleasure! They poussetted,
bowed, curtsied, joined hands, and threaded the mysteries of every
figure, as if their very lives depended on their agility.

"Look at Jean Thomas," said a young girl to her still younger companion.
"He dances like an angel!"

The one thus called upon to admire, looked at Jean Thomas, and sighed.

"He never asks me, by any chance," said she, sadly, "although his mother
and mine are good neighbors. I suppose I don't dance well enough--or
dress well enough," she added, glancing at her friend's gay shawl and
coquettish cap.

"He has danced with me twice this evening," said the first speaker
triumphantly; "and he danced with me twice last Sunday at the Jardin
d'Armide. Elise says...."

Her voice dropped