"Excuse me, Madame la Princesse. If Madame la Princesse will do me the
honor to give me her hand, it is our turn to cross."

They had just crossed. Serge suddenly found himself facing his mother-
in-law. His face lit up, and he uttered a joyful exclamation. Micheline
raised her eyes, and following her husband's look, perceived her mother.
Then it was a double joy. With a mischievous wink, Serge called Madame
Desvarennes's attention to the mayor's solemn appearance as he was
galloping with Micheline, also the comical positions of the rustics.

Micheline was smiling. She was enjoying herself. All this homely
gayety, of which she was the cause, made her feel happy. She enjoyed the
pleasure of those around her. With her compassionate eyes she thanked
her mother in the distance for having prepared this fete in honor of her
marriage. The clarionet, violin, and cornet sounded a last modulation,
then the final cadence put an end to the bounds of the dances. Each took
his lady to her place--the mayor with pompous gait, Serge with as much
grace as if he had been at an ambassador's ball and was leading a young
lady of highest rank.

Madame Desvarennes was suddenly surrounded; cheers resounded, the band
struck up the Marseillaise.

"Let us escape," said Serge, "because these good people will think
nothing of carrying us in triumph."

And leading away his mother-in-law and his wife, he left the ballroom
followed by cheers.

Outside they all three walked in silence. The night air was delightful