impotence more keenly.
At last the Baron had found a seat by Madame de Soulanges. His eyes

stole a long look at her neck, as fresh as dew and as fragrant as
field flowers. He admired close at hand the beauty which had amazed

him from afar. He could see a small, well-shod foot, and measure with
his eye a slender and graceful shape. At that time women wore their

sash tied close under the bosom, in imitation of Greek statues, a
pitiless fashion for those whose bust was faulty. As he cast furtive

glances at the Countess' figure, Martial was enchanted with its
perfection.

"You have not danced once this evening, madame," said he in soft and
flattering tones. "Not, I should suppose, for lack of a partner?"

"I never go to parties; I am quite unknown," replied Madame de
Soulanges coldly, not having understood the look by which her aunt had

just conveyed to her that she was to attract the Baron.
Martial, to give himself countenance, twisted the diamond he wore on

his left hand; the rainbow fires of the gem seemed to flash a sudden
light on the young Countess' mind; she blushed and looked at the Baron

with an undefinable expression.
"Do you like dancing?" asked the Provencal, to reopen the

conversation.
"Yes, very much, monsieur."

At this strange reply their eyes met. The young man, surprised by the
earnest accent, which aroused a vague hope in his heart, had suddenly

questioned the lady's eyes.
"Then, madame, am I not overbold in offering myself to be your partner

for the next quadrille?'
Artless confusion colored the Countess' white cheeks.

"But, monsieur, I have already refused one partner--a military
man----"

"Was it that tall cavalrycolonel whom you see over there?"
"Precisely so."

"Oh! he is a friend of mine; feel no alarm. Will you grant me the
favor I dare hope for?"

"Yes, monsieur."
Her tone betrayed an emotion so new and so deep that the lawyer's

world-worn soul was touched. He was overcome by shyness like a
schoolboy's, lost his confidence, and his southern brain caught fire;

he tried to talk, but his phrases struck him as graceless in
comparison with Madame de Soulanges' bright and subtle replies. It was

lucky for him that the quadrille was forming. Standing by his
beautiful partner, he felt more at ease. To many men dancing is a

phase of being; they think that they can more powerfully influence the
heart of woman by displaying the graces of their bodies than by their

intellect. Martial wished, no doubt, at this moment to put forth all
his most effective seductions, to judge by the pretentiousness of his

movements and gestures.
He led his conquest to the quadrille in which the most brilliant women

in the room made it a point of chimerical importance to dance in
preference to any other. While the orchestra played the introductory

bars to the first figure, the Baron felt it an incredible
gratification to his pride to perceive, as he reviewed the ladies

forming the lines of that formidable square, that Madame de Soulanges'
dress might challenge that even of Madame de Vaudremont, who, by a

chance not perhaps unsought, was standing with Montcornet vis-a-vis to
himself and the lady in blue. All eyes were for a moment turned on

Madame de Soulanges; a flattering murmur showed that she was the
subject of every man's conversation with his partner. Looks of

admiration and envy centered on her, with so much eagerness that the
young creature, abashed by a triumph she seemed to disclaim, modestly

looked down, blushed, and was all the more charming. When she raised
her white eyelids it was to look at her ravished partner as though she

wished to transfer the glory of this admiration to him, and to say
that she cared more for his than for all the rest. She threw her

innocence into her vanity; or rather she seemed to give herself up to
the guileless admiration which is the beginning of love, with the good

faith found only in youthful hearts. As she danced, the lookers-on
might easily believe that she displayed her grace for Martial alone;

and though she was modest, and new to the trickery of the ballroom,
she knew as well as the most accomplished coquette how to raise her

eyes to his at the right moment and drop their lids with assumed
modesty.

When the movement of a new figure, invented by a dancer named Trenis,
and named after him, brought Martial face to face with the Colonel--"I

have won your horse," said he, laughing.
"Yes, but you have lost eighty thousand francs a year!" retorted

Montcornet, glancing at Madame de Vaudremont.
"What do I care?" replied Martial. "Madame de Soulanges is worth

millions!"
At the end of the quadrille more than one whisper was poured into more

than one ear. The less pretty women made moral speeches to their
partners, commenting on the budding liaison between Martial and the

Comtesse de Soulanges. The handsomest wondered at her easy surrender.
The men could not understand such luck as the Baron's, not regarding

him as particularly fascinating. A few indulgent women said it was not
fair to judge the Countess too hastily; young wives would be in a very

hapless plight if an expressive look or a few graceful dancing steps
were enough to compromise a woman.

Martial alone knew the extent of his happiness. During the last
figure, when the ladies had to form the moulinet, his fingers clasped

those of the Countess, and he fancied that, through the thin perfumed
kid of her gloves, the young wife's grasp responded to his amorous

appeal.
"Madame," said he, as the quadrille ended, "do not go back to the

odious corner where you have been burying your face and your dress
until now. Is admiration the only benefit you can obtain from the

jewels that adorn your white neck and beautifully dressed hair? Come
and take a turn through the rooms to enjoy the scene and yourself."

Madame de Soulanges yielded to her seducer, who thought she would be
his all the more surely if he could only show her off. Side by side

they walked two or three times amid the groups who crowded the rooms.
The Comtesse de Soulanges, evidentlyuneasy, paused for an instant at

each door before entering, only doing so after stretching her neck to
look at all the men there. This alarm, which crowned the Baron's

satisfaction, did not seem to be removed till he said to her, "Make
yourself easy; HE is not here."

They thus made their way to an immense picture gallery in a wing of
the mansion, where their eyes could feast in anticipation on the

splendid display of a collation prepared for three hundred persons. As
supper was about to begin, Martial led the Countess to an oval boudoir

looking on to the garden, where the rarest flowers and a few shrubs
made a scented bower under bright blue hangings. The murmurs of the

festivity here died away. The Countess, at first startled, refused
firmly to follow the young man; but, glancing in a mirror, she no

doubt assured herself that they could be seen, for she seated herself
on an ottoman with a fairly good grace.

"This room is charming," said she, admiring the sky-blue hangings
looped with pearls.

"All here is love and delight!" said the Baron, with deep emotion.
In the mysterious light which prevailed he looked at the Countess, and

detected on her gently agitated face an expression of uneasiness,
modesty, and eagerness which enchanted him. The young lady smiled, and

this smile seemed to put an end to the struggle of feeling surging in
her heart; in the most insinuating way she took her adorer's left

hand, and drew from his finger the ring on which she had fixed her
eyes.

"What a fine diamond!" she exclaimed in the artless tone of a young
girl betraying the incitement of a first temptation.

Martial, troubled by the Countess' involuntary but intoxicating touch,
like a caress, as she drew off the ring, looked at her with eyes as

glittering as the gem.