They danced for a long time. So long, that André became uneasy, and my
available French was quite exhausted. I was heartily glad when Dalrymple
brought back the little bride at last, flushed and panting, and (himself
as cool as a diplomatist) assisted her with her shawl and resigned her
to the protection of her husband.

"Why hast thou danced so long with that big Englishman?" murmured André,
discontentedly. "When _I_ asked thee, thou wast too tired, and now...."

"And now I am so happy to be near thee again," whispered Suzette.

André softened directly.

"But to dance for twenty minutes...." began he.

"Ah, but he danced so well, and I am so fond of waltzing, André!"

The cloud gathered again, and an impatient reply was coming, when
Dalrymple opportunely invited the whole party to a bowl of punch in an
adjoining arbor, and himself led the way with Madame Roquet. The arbor
was vacant, a waiter was placing the chairs, and the punch was blazing
in the bowl. It had evidently been ordered during one of the pauses in
the dance, that it might be ready to the moment--a little attention
which called forth exclamations of pleasure from both Madame Roquet and
Monsieur Robineau, and touched with something like a gleam of
satisfaction even the grim visage of Monsieur Robineau's wife.

Dalrymple took the head of the table, and stirred the punch into leaping
tongues of blue flame till it looked like a miniature Vesuvius.