invariably attaches to a discarded lover. The lawyerproudly raised

his head and looked at the strange lady; then, as he took his seat at
his ease near Madame de Vaudremont, he listened to her so

inattentively that he did not catch these words spoken behind her fan:
"Martial, you will oblige me this evening by not wearing that ring

that you snatched from me. I have my reasons, and will explain them to
you in a moment when we go away. You must give me your arm to go to

the Princess de Wagram's."
"Why did you come in with the Colonel?" asked the Baron.

"I met him in the hall," she replied. "But leave me now; everybody is
looking at us."

Martial returned to the Colonel of Cuirassiers. Then it was that the
little blue lady had become the object of the curiosity which agitated

in such various ways the Colonel, Soulanges, Martial, and Madame de
Vaudremont.

When the friends parted, after the challenge which closed their
conversation, the Baron flew to Madame de Vaudremont, and led her to a

place in the most brilliant quadrille. Favored by the sort of
intoxication which dancing always produces in a woman, and by the

turmoil of a ball, where men appear in all the trickery of dress,
which adds no less to their attractions than it does to those of

women, Martial thought he might yield with impunity to the charm that
attracted his gaze to the fair stranger. Though he succeeded in hiding

his first glances towards the lady in blue from the anxious activity
of the Countess' eyes, he was ere long caught in the fact; and though

he managed to excuse himself once for his absence of mind, he could
not justify the unseemly silence with which he presently heard the

most insinuating question which a woman can put to a man:
"Do you like me very much this evening?"

And the more dreamy he became, the more the Countess pressed and
teased him.

While Martial was dancing, the Colonel moved from group to group,
seeking information about the unknown lady. After exhausting the good-

humor even of the most indifferent, he had resolved to take advantage
of a moment when the Comtesse de Gondreville seemed to be at liberty,

to ask her the name of the mysterious lady, when he perceived a little
space left clear between the pedestal of the candelabrum and the two

sofas, which ended in that corner. The dance had left several of the
chairs vacant, which formed rows of fortifications held by mothers or

women of middle age; and the Colonel seized the opportunity to make
his way through this palisade hung with shawls and wraps. He began by

making himself agreeable to the dowagers, and so from one to another,
and from compliment to compliment, he at last reached the empty space

next the stranger. At the risk of catching on to the gryphons and
chimaeras of the huge candelabrum, he stood there, braving the glare

and dropping of the wax candles, to Martial's extreme annoyance.
The Colonel, far too tactful to speak suddenly to the little blue lady

on his right, began by saying to a plain woman who was seated on the
left:

"This is a splendid ball, madame! What luxury! What life! On my word,
every woman here is pretty! You are not dancing--because you do not

care for it, no doubt."
This vapid conversation was solely intended to induce his right-hand

neighbor to speak; but she, silent and absent-minded, paid not the
least attention. The officer had in store a number of phrases which he

intended should lead up to: "And you, madame?"--a question from which
he hoped great things. But he was strangely surprised to see tears in

the strange lady's eyes, which seemed wholly absorbed in gazing on
Madame de Vaudremont.

"You are married, no doubt, madame?" he asked her at length, in
hesitating tones.

"Yes, monsieur," replied the lady.
"And your husband is here, of course?"

"Yes, monsieur."
"And why, madame, do you remain in this spot? Is it to attract

attention?"
The mournful lady smiled sadly.

"Allow me the honor, madame, of being your partner in the next
quadrille, and I will take care not to bring you back here. I see a

vacant settee near the fire; come and take it. When so many people are
ready to ascend the throne, and Royalty is the mania of the day, I

cannot imagine that you will refuse the title of Queen of the Ball
which your beauty may claim."

"I do not intend to dance, monsieur."
The curt tone of the lady's replies was so discouraging that the

Colonel found himself compelled to raise the siege. Martial, who
guessed what the officer's last request had been, and the refusal he

had met with, began to smile, and stroked his chin, making the diamond
sparkle which he wore on his finger.

"What are you laughing at?" said the Comtesse de Vaudremont.
"At the failure of the poor Colonel, who has just put his foot in

it----"
"I begged you to take your ring off," said the Countess, interrupting

him.
"I did not hear you."

"If you can hear nothing this evening, at any rate you see everything,
Monsieur le Baron," said Madame de Vaudremont, with an air of

vexation.
"That young man is displaying a very fine diamond," the stranger

remarked to the Colonel.
"Splendid," he replied. "The man is the Baron Martial de la Roche-

Hugon, one of my most intimate friends."
"I have to thank you for telling me his name," she went on; "he seems

an agreeable man."
"Yes, but he is rather fickle."

"He seems to be on the best terms with the Comtesse de Vaudremont?"
said the lady, with an inquiring look at the Colonel.

"On the very best."
The unknown turned pale.

"Hallo!" thought the soldier, "she is in love with that lucky devil
Martial."

"I fancied that Madame de Vaudremont had long been devoted to M. de
Soulanges," said the lady, recovering a little from the suppressed

grief which had clouded the fairness of her face.
"For a week past the Countess has been faithless," replied the

Colonel. "But you must have seen poor Soulanges when he came in; he is
till trying to disbelieve in his disaster."

"Yes, I saw him," said the lady. Then she added, "Thank you very much,
monsieur," in a tone which signified a dismissal.

At this moment the quadrille was coming to an end. Montcornet had only
time to withdraw, saying to himself by way of consolation, "She is

married."
"Well, valiant Cuirassier," exclaimed the Baron, drawing the Colonel

aside into a window-bay to breathe the fresh air from the garden, "how
are you getting on?"

"She is a married woman, my dear fellow."
"What does that matter?"

"Oh, deuce take it! I am a decent sort of man," replied the Colonel.
"I have no idea of paying my addresses to a woman I cannot marry.

Besides, Martial, she expressly told me that she did not intend to
dance."

"Colonel, I will bet a hundred napoleons to your gray horse that she
will dance with me this evening."

"Done!" said the Colonel, putting his hand in the coxcomb's.
"Meanwhile I am going to look for Soulanges; he perhaps knows the

lady, as she seems interested in him."
"You have lost, my good fellow," cried Martial, laughing. "My eyes

have met hers, and I know what they mean. My dear friend, you owe me
no grudge for dancing with her after she has refused you?"

"No, no. Those who laugh last, laugh longest. But I am an honest
gambler and a generous enemy, Martial, and I warn you, she is fond of

diamonds."