fellow-players for two minutes together. They were playing a polka for
the benefit of some twelve or fifteen couples, who were dancing with all
their might in the space before the orchestra. On they came, round and
round and never weary, two at a time--a mechanic and a grisette, a
rustic and a Normandy girl, a tall soldier and a short widow, a fat
tradesman and his wife, a couple of milliners assistants who preferred
dancing together to not dancing at all, and so forth.

"How I wish somebody would ask me, _ma mère_!" said a coquettish
brunette, close by, with a sidelong glance at ourselves."

"You shall dance with your brother Paul, my dear, as soon as he comes,"
replied her mother, a stout _bourgeoise_ with a green fan.

"But it is such dull work to dance with one's brother!" pouted the
brunette. "If it were one's cousin, even, it would be different."

Mr. Frank Sullivan flung away his cigar, and began buttoning up his
gloves.

"I'll take that damsel out immediately," said he. "A girl who objects to
dance with her brother deserves encouragement."

So away he went with his hat inclining jauntily on one side, and, having
obtained the mother's permission, whirled away with the pretty brunette
into the very thickest of the throng.

"There they are!" said Dalrymple, suddenly. "There's the wedding party.
_Per Bacco_! but our little bride is charming!"