The dancing continued, but many people had gone. I walked about the studio. It seemed to me that I heard several people whispering to one another, and at the same time pointing at Madame Ernest. Bélan was quite capable of having gone about to tell all his acquaintances what my wife had told him. Poor Marguerite! she was pretty, so they were overjoyed to calumniate her. They would have been more indulgent if she had been ugly. There was to be but one more quadrille. The orchestra gave the signal. Madame Ernest had a partner, who led her to a place opposite my wife. I saw that Eugénie instantly led her partner away and took her place elsewhere. Thereupon Madame Ernest’s partner led her to a place opposite Madame Bélan. Tall Armide did as my wife had done; she turned on her heel and returned to her seat, crying in quite a loud tone: “I prefer not to dance.” I was indignant. I hastily took the hand of the first lady I saw, without even taking time to invite her; I led her away and we took our places directly opposite Madame Ernest and her partner. Thereupon my wife did as Madame Bélan had done; she left the quadrille, darting glances at me to which I paid very little heed. While we were dancing, Ernest approached me. His face was red and his eyes gleaming. “My friend,” he said to me in an undertone, “I thank you for what you have just done; I shall not forget it.” “What do you mean?” “Oh! you must have seen the ostentation with which those people refused to stand opposite my wife. Indeed, I overheard some words from that little man’s tall wife, and I had difficulty in restraining myself.” “You are mistaken, Ernest.” “Oh, no! she is afraid of compromising herself by standing opposite a woman who is not married! what a pitiful thing! If I chose to investigate the conduct of many of these married ladies, I fancy that I should make some very fine discoveries.” Ernest talked quite loud and glanced ironically about. I was afraid that someone would hear him; I dreaded a scene. Luckily the quadrille came to an end. Little Marguerite had also noticed that several ladies smiled meaningly as they looked at her. She was not at her ease. She said to Ernest immediately after the dance: “We are going now, aren’t we, my dear? It is late, and I am tired.” “No, we will not go yet,” replied Ernest sharply; “I should be very sorry to go now; we will stay until the last.” His wife was not in the habit of replying, and besides, she saw plainly that there was something wrong. Firmin took my arm and led me away. We walked around the studio. I tried to divert his thoughts from the subject which engrossed them, but Giraud came toward us, rubbing his hands. “There is plenty of gossip here,” he said to me; “those Bélans are evil-tongued, I tell you.” “My dear Giraud, I care little about gossip, and----” “Do you see that young woman in blue over there, with blue flowers in her hair?”