"Suppose Monsieur Desvanneaux should hear that we danced on the eve of
Palm Sunday?" laughingly pro-tested Madame de Lisieux.
"He would report it at Rome," said Madame de Nointel.
And, without further regard to the compromising of their souls, each of the two young women took for a partner the husband of the other.
Mademoiselle de Vermont had granted the eager request of Lenaieff that she would waltz with him, an occupation in which the Russian officer acquitted himself with the same respectful correctness that had formerly obtained for him the high favor of some grand duchess at the balls in the palace of Gatchina.
He was older and stouter than his brother-in-arms, Henri de Prerolles, and a wound he had received at Plevna slightly impeded his movements, so that he was unable to display the same activity in the dance as the other waltzers, and contented himself with moving a 'trois temps', in an evolution less in harmony with the brilliancy of the music.
Henri, on the contrary, who had been a familiar friend of the Austrian ambassador at the time when the Princess de Metternich maintained a sort of open ballroom for her intimates, had learned, in a good school, all the boldness and elegance of the Viennese style of dancing.
But he sat immovable, as did also Edmond Delorme, because of the lack of partners; and, not wishing to take the second place after Lenaieff, his rival, he would not for the world abandon his role of spectator, unless some one forced him to it.
"Suppose we have a cotillon figure, in order to change partners?" said
Valentine suddenly, during a pause, after she had thanked her partner.
And, to set the example, she took, from a basket of flowers, a rosebud, which she offered to Henri.
"Will you take a turn with me?" she said, with the air of the mistress of the house, who shows equal courtesy to all her guests.