"Caspar!" continued he, "when your dance is over, give me a few minutes in the next room. We will chat together, and sip our negus."
Caspar did so, and did sip his negus. The little gentleman in black, was very facetious, and very affable.
"Are you not going to dance again, Caspar? Look at all those pretty girls, waiting for partners! Why do you not lead one to the country dance?"
As he ended speaking, a sylph-like figure, with long golden ringlets, floated past them.
"I can, and I will," replied Caspar, laughing, as he took the fair-haired girl by the hand, and led her to the dance.
He turned to address his friend in triumph, but he had disappeared.
The dance was over, and Caspar led the stranger towards a silken ottoman.
"Will you not try one waltz?" said the beautiful girl, as she shook her ringlets, over his flushed cheek; "but I must not ask you, if you are tired."
"How can I refuse?" rejoined Caspar. Caroline was forgotten, as his partner's golden hair floated on his shoulders, and her soft white arms were twined around him, as they danced the mazy coquettish waltz, which was then the fashion in Lausanne.
"How warm these rooms are!" she exclaimed at last. "The moon is up: let us walk in the avenue."