him from afar. He could see a small, well-shod foot, and measure with
his eye a slender and graceful shape. At that time women wore their
sash tied close under the bosom, in imitation of Greek statues, a
pitiless fashion for those whose bust was faulty. As he cast furtive
glances at the Countess' figure, Martial was enchanted with its
perfection.

"You have not danced once this evening, madame," said he in soft and
flattering tones. "Not, I should suppose, for lack of a partner?"

"I never go to parties; I am quite unknown," replied Madame de
Soulanges coldly, not having understood the look by which her aunt had
just conveyed to her that she was to attract the Baron.

Martial, to give himself countenance, twisted the diamond he wore on
his left hand; the rainbow fires of the gem seemed to flash a sudden
light on the young Countess' mind; she blushed and looked at the Baron
with an undefinable expression.

"Do you like dancing?" asked the Provencal, to reopen the
conversation.

"Yes, very much, monsieur."

At this strange reply their eyes met. The young man, surprised by the
earnest accent, which aroused a vague hope in his heart, had suddenly
questioned the lady's eyes.

"Then, madame, am I not overbold in offering myself to be your partner
for the next quadrille?"