Adolphine's return put an end to Monsieur Batonnin's questions. "Mademoiselle," he said, in his most silvery tones, "I beg your pardon if I repeat the same thing again and again, like a parrot, but I should be glad to know if I may obtain from you the favor of the first contra-dance. I present my request thus early, because I am sure that you will be beset, overwhelmed with invitations this evening, and it will be very difficult to obtain a word with you." Adolphine seemed to make an effort to throw off her preoccupation, and replied: "But I am not sure yet, monsieur, whether I shall dance at my sister's this evening, for I have a very severe headache, and, unless it gets better, I shall cut a very sad figure in a dance." "Don't pay any attention to her," said Monsieur Gerbault. "These girls are forever having headaches, which take them all of a sudden when they have the least thought of such a thing; but, have no fear, there never was a headache that didn't surrender at the signal given by the orchestra at a ball. So, as you've delivered your invitation, you are certain of being her first partner. And now, let us leave mademoiselle to her preparations. Come, my dear Monsieur Batonnin." The soft-spoken gentleman bestowed a superb smile upon Adolphine, accompanied by a respectful bow. "Mademoiselle," he said, "I rest my hopes upon what your father says, too fortunate if you crown my desires; and if my invitation, albeit a little premature perhaps, and rather unseasonable----" "Come, Monsieur Batonnin, come." The maker of compliments, being led away by Monsieur Gerbault, was compelled to complete his sentence in the reception-room; and Adolphine, left alone at last, cursed Monsieur Batonnin for coming, with his invitation, to interrupt her interview with Gustave. "A ball, indeed!" she murmured, angrily tossing her furbelows about; "I must needs dance this evening, when my heart is full, when I would like to weep undisturbed! Ah! if these are the pleasures which society has to offer, they who are debarred from them are the most fortunate!" XXXIII A GRAND AFFAIR At ten o'clock, Monsieur Monleard's magnificent salons were resplendent with light, flowers, and new draperies, arranged with an artistic skill which did honor to the taste of the organizer of the festivity. At eleven, the guests arrived in swarms. The ladies were superbly dressed, and the flashing of their diamonds dazzled the eye; some--but by no means the larger number--were more simply attired, and were content to attract by the charms of their persons alone. The men admired the beautiful dresses, but preferred to linger by those whose attractions depended less upon their costumes. A fine orchestra played quadrilles, polkas, mazurkas. Its strains seemed to enliven the faces of the guests, which fairly beamed with pleasure--the pleasure which they already enjoyed, and that to which they looked forward: the latter is always the more agreeable.