First getting rid of a horrible person, who would persist in following Min about under the false pretence that his name was on her card for several of the after-supper dances--an assertion _I_ knew to be ridiculously unfounded; for, I had taken care to place my own name down for as many as Min would give me, and, all the latter ones I had appropriated also without asking her permission, thinking that when that happy time arrived, she would not be very hard on me for my presumption; nor was she. Extinguishing the interloper--some people have such blindness of mental vision, that they never can see when they are not wanted!--I managed at length to open proceedings. It was while in a quadrille that I began referring to the agonised state of my mind, and explained the mental suffering I then was experiencing. Min listened attentively, as far as she heard, a warm flush on her dear face and a light sparkling in the deep grey eyes; but, I would defy any lover to plead his cause with due effect in that mazy old cotillon dance, which a love of French nomenclature in the early part of the century, taught us to style "quadrille." How can you inform the object of your passion that you adore her, with any becoming effusion of sentiment, when you are chassez-ing and balancez-ing like a human teetotum? How, breathe the words of love; when, ere you have completed your avowal, you have to make a fool of yourself in the "Cavalier seul," the cynosure of six different pairs of eyes besides those of the girl of your heart? How, tone your voice, sweetly attuned though it may be to Venusian accents, when, one moment, it may be inaudible to her whom you address, through the rampagious gallopading and ladies-chaining of excited quadrillers; and, the next, be so raised in pitch, from the sudden hush that falls on band and dancers alike, between the figures, that your opposite vis-a-vis, and the neighbouring side couples, can hear every syllable of your frantic declaration--much to their amusement and your discomfiture? You cannot do it, I say. No, not if you were a Talleyrand in love matters; and, so completely versed in the pathology of the "fitful fever," as to be able to diagnose it at a glance; besides nursing the patient through all the several stages of the disease--watching every symptom, anticipating each change, bringing the "case," finally, to a favourable issue! No, sir, or madam, or mademoiselle, as the case may be; you cannot do it--not in a quadrille, at all events, or I will;--but, no, I won't bet:--it is wrong to do so, Min told me! Presently, on the music stopping, I led her to a seat in a quiet corner. "Here"--thought I--"I shall be able to have you to myself without fear of interruption!" I commenced my tale again; but, Min, evidently, did not wish to come to any decision now. She wanted to let matters remain as they were.