She immediately regretted having accepted, she would have liked to stay
there, near him. But it was too late, Paul took her hand and led her
away.

Jean rose; he looked at the two, Bettina and Paul, a haze floated before
his eyes, he suffered cruelly.

"There is only one thing I can do," thought he, "profit by this waltz,
and go. To-morrow I will write a few lines to Mrs. Scott to excuse
myself."

He gained the door, he looked no more at Bettina; had he looked, he would
have stayed.

But Bettina looked at him; and all at once she said to Paul:

"Thank you very much, but I am a little tired, let us stop, please. You
will excuse me, will you not?"

Paul offered his arm.

"No, thank you," said she.

The door was just closing, Jean was no longer there. Bettina ran across
the room. Paul remained alone, much surprised, understanding nothing of
what had passed.

Jean was already at the hall-door, when he heard some one call--"Monsieur
Jean! Monsieur Jean!"