"Yes, monsieur," interposed Madame Dauberny; "and I have been waiting a long while for Monsieur Balloquet to ask me to dance. I told him that I should be at Mademoiselle Guillardin's wedding."
Balloquet stared in amazement when that lady, whom he did not know, called him by name; but he replied at once:
"I am at your service, madame; but, you see, I was trying to explain matters to these gentlemen, and——"
"Oh! that's all over! let's not say any more about that!" cried Bocal, grasping Balloquet's hand. "If I had had any idea that you were invited to my landlord's wedding party!—Madame, messieurs, we shall be much flattered if you will honor us with your presence, if you will deign to come to our ball.—I beg you, Monsieur Guillardin, to do me that honor. Let me present Pétronille—Pamphile, go and call Pétronille.—Come, madame and messieurs, pray take a turn at our ball.—Cousin Ravinet, make our friends stand aside and make room for my landlord."
Cousin Ravinet was the little man who talked like Mr. Punch; he rushed into the room where Monsieur Girie's wedding was being celebrated, crying:
"Here comes my cousin's landlord! He's coming to our party. Bocal's bringing him.—A little music, please. I say there, you in the orchestra!"
The musicians supposed that he was calling for dance music, and they began to play a polka. Monsieur Guillardin, impelled almost by force by his tenant Monsieur Bocal, found himself in the ballroom at the rear. Madame Dauberny and I followed him, as did Balloquet, the latter being escorted almost in triumph by the bridegroom, who had taken his arm.
"You ought to have told us right off that you were a friend—a friend of friends of ours," said Girie. "Then we wouldn't have quarrelled. As you're invited to the party of my father-in-law Bocal's landlord, why, give me your hand! I must insist on your dancing the next dance with Pétronille."
"You're too kind, Monsieur Girie. As for the mistake I made in pinching your good wife——"
"Nonsense! don't say any more about that! It was a joke—just a joke! Look you, if you're a good fellow, you'll stay with us—as long as you're enjoying yourself. Now we know each other, we'll have some sport; we'll raise the deuce. It's agreed, ain't it? You stay with us; and at supper I'll take good care of you."