She lowered her head, and, putting her hands before her face, taking care not to disarrange her hair, she said, in the tones of a child who has just stolen some sweetmeats—
"Forgive me; I will not do it again."
"I will only pardon you, my dear Pani," I said to her, "if you will fulfil a certain promise which you were good enough to make to me at Wilmo, at the house of the Princess Katazyna Paç."
"What promise?" she asked, raising her head and laughing.
"Have you forgotten so soon? You promised me that if we met in Samogitia you would let me see a certain country dance which you said was enchanting."
"Oh, the roussalka! I shall be charmed; and the very man I need is here."
She ran to a table loaded with music-books, and, turning over one hastily, put it on the piano stand.
"Mind, my dear, allegro presto," she said, addressing her governess. And she played the prelude herself, without sitting down, to show the time.
"Come here, Count Michel! you are too much of a Lithuanian not to be able to dance the roussalka; ... but dance like a peasant, you understand."
Madam Dowghiello in vain tried to object. The Count and I insisted. He had his motives, for his part in the dance was extremely agreeable, as we soon saw. The governess, after several attempts, said she thought she could play that kind of waltz, strange though it was; so Mademoiselle Iwinska, after moving some chairs and a table that were in the way, took hold of her partner by the collar of his coat and led him into the centre of the room.