The Monsieur had come over to Paris for new dances. A rival had appeared in the city, where he had so long been the favorite teacher; and the Americans were raving for new figures. His gavottes and shawl dances were voted obsolete, and out of date; and he had been dethroned by the children of his former pupils, to make way for the new teacher, who came over fresh from Paris with gallopes and figures of the newest fashion. He could scarcely realize it until he found his hours unoccupied, his school-list, that had formerly been filled to overflowing, without a single name; then, with laudable courage and energy, he resolved to take the little independence he had collected, return to _chère Paris_—but not as a sober Englishman or Scotchman would have done, live quietly on it for the rest of his days—oh, no! he pined for revenge. What was life to a Frenchman without a triumph? “Inglorious ease” he scorned. No! he, too, would learn new dances; he would return to the scene of his former power, but late discomfiture, and hurl the presumptuous usurper from his throne. He, too, would flourish in gallopes and new figures. The sight of Lolah suffering from poverty and trouble, touched his warm heart, but gave a new impulse to his thoughts. Monsieur Neillet was kind and generous; but, like all Frenchmen, ambitious and enthusiastic. He aided the poor Madame, relieved their distresses, and asked but one return—to bring his pet pupil out upon the stage. She consented. Poverty and necessity had humbled Madame Lalande’s pride—and Lolah became a public _danseuse_. Success attended her; and Monsieur Neillet had the satisfaction of seeing his little Mademoiselle Lolah ride in the grand carriage, and receive the intoxicating plaudits he had wished for her, when in Madame Lalande’s school, in America, she had executed _à ravir_ his favorite gavottes and Spanish waltzes.