The words seemed to dispel the slight cloud which had gathered, now and then, on the brow of the duchess during the evening, and she answered, gaily:
"Then you do very wrong to blame your friend if he has such a good excuse for his absence, M. Olivier."
"I am not blaming him in the least, Mlle. Herminie. I am only pitying him for not having come, and pitying myself for arriving so late, as I might, perhaps, have had the pleasure of dancing with mademoiselle sooner," added Olivier, addressing Mlle. de Beaumesnil, so she would not feel that she was left out of the conversation.
Suddenly the words, "Take your places!" resounded through the room, accompanied by a few chords on the piano.
"I am at your service, mademoiselle," said Olivier, offering his arm to Ernestine.
The girl arose to accompany Olivier, but Herminie caught her by the hand, and whispered:
"One moment, Ernestine, let me arrange your sash. It needs pinning."
And the duchess, with charming solicitude, straightened a disordered fold in the sash, fastened it with a pin she took from her own girdle, smoothed out a slight wrinkle in Ernestine's corsage,—rendered her, in short, all those little kindly services which two devoted sisters are always performing for each other.
"Now, mademoiselle," remarked Herminie, with kindly gravity, after another brief survey of Ernestine's toilet, "I will let you go and dance, but you must promise to enjoy yourself immensely."
Mlle. de Beaumesnil was so touched by Herminie's little attentions that, before accepting Olivier's arm, she found an opportunity to imprint a light kiss on the cheek of the duchess, and whisper: