face beaming with smiles, is seated in an arm-chair at the top of the
largest ballroom. He keeps time with his foot. Now and then he raps
loudly with his stick on the floor and calls out the changes of the
figures. Baldassare and Luisa Bernardini lead with the grace and
precision of practised dancers.

"Brava! brava! a thousand times! Brava!" calls out the cavaliere
from his arm-chair, clapping his hands. "You did that beautifully,
marchesa!"--This was addressed to the swan's-neck, who had circled
round, conducted by her partner, selecting such gentlemen as she
pleased, and grouping them in one spot, in order to form a _bouquet_.
"You couldn't have done it better if you had been taught in
Paris.--Forward! forward!" to a timid couple, to whom the intricacies
of the figure were evidently distracting. "Belle donne! belle donne!
Victory to the brave! Fear nothing.--Orsetti, keep the circle down
there; you are out of your place. You will never form the _bouquet_ if
you don't--Louder! louder!" to the musicians, holding up his stick
at them like a marshal's bâton--"loud as they advance--then
piano--diminuendo--pia-nis-si-mo--as they retreat. That sort of
thing gives picturesqueness--light and shade, like a picture. Hi! hi!
Malatesta! The devil! You are spoiling every thing! Didn't I tell you
to present the flowers to your partner? So--so. The flowers--they are
there." Trenta pointed to a table. He struggled to rise to fetch the
bouquets himself. Malatesta was too quick for him, however.

"Now bring up all the ladies and place them in chairs; bow to them,"
etc., etc.

Thanks to the energy of the cavaliere, and the agility of
Baldassare--who, it is admitted on all hands, had never distinguished