Chance had served me well. My partner was a very pretty brunette; her great blue eyes were at once tender and intelligent, and I deemed them to be capable of saying many things when they chose to take the trouble. A slightly aquiline nose, an attractive mouth, beautiful teeth, which she showed often because she laughed readily, black hair falling in long curls over her neck, a mode of dressing the hair which I have always liked--all these details formed a very seductive whole, and that is what I found in my partner, who was light of foot, slender, with a shapely figure, and graceful in every movement. Then I looked about. By the manners of the women, the costumes of the men, and the prevalent style of dancing, I saw that I had fallen upon a fashionable assemblage. There was not the slightest suggestion of the cancan; but, by way of compensation, there was a distinct odor of patchouli. I was not sure whether they were enjoying themselves much; but, at all events, they accepted boredom with infinite grace. I saw many ugly women; in a large party, it rarely happens that they are not in the majority. That being so, is it surprising that a pretty woman makes so many conquests? If nature created more of them, beauty would receive less adulation; but as it appears only at rare intervals, it attracts more notice. However, I saw some good-looking women; others who were rather attractive; others (and that too is common experience) who had no other attraction than their youth. But I looked in vain for anyone equal to my partner. I concluded to open a conversation with her; if, through her, I could obtain some information concerning the bride and groom, find out something as to my hosts, it would be of advantage to me in my embarrassing position. "I am very fortunate, madame, to have arrived just in time to find you unengaged. That must be a very rare occurrence, and chance favored me." "But you see, monsieur, I am in less demand than you seem to think; you had only to come forward. Have you just come, monsieur? I don't remember seeing you before." "Yes, madame, yes; I have not been here long." "What do you think of the bride? Very pretty, is she not?" I cast my eyes about me with an embarrassed air; I saw nobody who looked like a bride. My partner, who noticed my hesitation no doubt, continued: "Can it be that you haven't seen her yet?" "Faith! I have not, madame; I have just come, and I have had no time yet to look for her." "Look! there she is over yonder, by the orchestra." I saw a young woman in the conventional costume, with white bouquet and orange blossoms. "Do you see her?" "Yes, madame. But why is she not dancing?" "Because that great lout of an Archibald trod on her foot just now, and nearly crushed it. What an awkward creature he is! Anna is obliged to rest through at least two quadrilles." I had learned that the bride's name was Anna. That was something. "Poor Adolphe was in despair. He wanted to fight Monsieur Archibald."