rejoined her mother, and was incautious enough to smile.

“There!

You DO consent, and we CAN stay after all!” exclaimed Sonetchka, jumping for joy.

“What is to be done with such a girl?” said Madame. “Well, run away and dance. See,” she added on perceiving myself, “here is a cavalier ready waiting for you.”

Sonetchka gave me her hand, and we darted off to the salon. The wine, added to Sonetchka’s presence and gaiety, had at once made me forget all about the unfortunate end of the mazurka. I kept executing the most splendid feats with my legs — now imitating a horse as he throws out his hoofs in the trot, now stamping like a sheep infuriated at a dog, and all