"The Princess," she said, "has been swept off in the train of some German
Royalty; so, _petit pere_, I must impose myself on thee."

The Princess, a Russian of high rank, was the _chaperon_ that evening of
Mademoiselle Valerie Duplessis.

"And I suppose I must take thee back into the ballroom," said the
financier, smiling proudly, "and find thee partners."

"I don't want your aid for that, Monsieur; except this quadrille, my list
is pretty well filled up."

"And I hope the partners will be pleasant. Let me know who they are," he
whispered, as they threaded their way into the ball-room.

The girl glanced at her tablet.

"Well, the first on the list is milord somebody, with an unpronounceable
English name."

"Beau cavalier?"

"No; ugly, old too; thirty at least."

Duplessis felt relieved. He did not wish his daughter to fall in love
with an Englishman.

"And the next?"

"The next?" she said hesitatingly, and he observed that a soft blush