"Yes, Thomery! Although he is well over fifty, he means to commit matrimony! I quite envy him his future wife, my Andral! There she is! That stately dame who is going towards the last of the reception rooms all alone, rather haughty, but a noble creature--it's Princess Sonia Danidoff, related to the Tzar in some distant way and with an immense fortune. Just look, dear boy, at those splendid jewels on that beautiful neck of hers! They say she's got on seven hundred thousand francs' worth--and the rest to match--millions to swell the sugar refiner's pouch! She is to lead the cotillion with him, so there's no doubt about the betrothal. By the by, you are going to stay for the cotillion?" "Hum! I..." "But you must! You simply must! We must sit together at supper, we have still so much to say!... Besides, if you hurry off like that, I fancy Thomery won't be best pleased. Oh, I say, there he is, coming our way! There's no denying it, he is a fine figure of a man, though he is in the fifties--but!... but!... but do look! What is the matter with him? He looks as if he had seen a ghost." * * * * * Sonia Danidoff, who had been waltzing with Thomery, was a little out of breath. A quick glance in a mirror showed the lovely Princess that her cheeks were rather flushed: "I am scarlet," she thought, with that touch of feminine exaggeration characteristic of her! She was a true daughter of Eve! At that exact moment she felt a slight tug at the bottom of her skirt, and at the same time a black coat was making profuse apologies: it was Monsieur Nanteuil: "I am in despair, Princess!" cried the banker. "But no one is quite responsible for his movements in such a crush!... I am very much afraid that I have stepped on the muslin of your ravishing toilette and have slightly torn it!" The Princess protested that it did not matter in the least, and the banker moved away, bowing low and pouring out apologies and regrets. As soon as he had left her the Princess showed her annoyance: how could she lead the cotillion with this tear in her dress, slight though it might be--and the cotillion would begin in less than half an hour! Then she remembered that her fiance had led her, on her arrival, to a little drawing-room, quite away from the reception rooms at the end of the gallery, that she might leave her cloak there, saying: "Dear Princess, I have prepared this boudoir for you, and _you only_." Sonia decided to retire to this boudoir at once and repair the damage to her dress. As she passed the cloak-room on her way a maid offered her services. The Princess refused them. If she could not have Nadine, she preferred to manage for herself, besides, she saw that two pins, concealed in the silk muslin, would put her dress to rights; and a touch of powder to her cheeks would bring her colour down to a becoming tint.