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[Illustration: Copyright 1904 by G. Barrie & Sons.]
_He tried to retrace his steps, but Madame de Noirmont and her daughter had seated themselves in front of him and closed the way by which he had come; so that he was blockaded in a very confined space, which he could not leave except by compelling the ladies in front of him to rise._
_Copyrighted, 1903-1904, by G. B. & Sons._
Shyness is a failing for which it is dangerous to reprove those whom we wish to correct of it.
It was the year 1818, I will not say of happy memory, because I do not remember whether that year was happier than other years; probably it was so to certain people, and just the opposite to others; and sometimes, often, I may say almost always, the same cause produces contrary results; that is to say, the thing that causes one person’s happiness causes the unhappiness of another person.
But this has been so in all times, and doubtless it will continue to be so till the end of time, assuming that time is to have an end. Nature loves contrasts; I cannot guess why, but that does not prevent me from believing that she is right, for Nature always does perfectly whatever she does.
In an old mansion in Faubourg Saint-Germain, situated on I do not know what street,--and that is of little importance,--a large company was assembled; they were dancing, enjoying themselves--or, at least, pretending to do so, which is not always the same thing; in short, it was a wedding party, the wedding of Monsieur le Marquis de Grandvilain and Mademoiselle Aménaïde Dufoureau.
There was a choice orchestra, in which, however, there were no cornets, because that instrument had not then acquired a commanding position in our ballrooms; there was a select company also; the dancing was marked by that decency, that gravity, that good-breeding which prevents French dancing from being amusing, and which has given rise to the saying that the merriest people on earth dance with the least indication of merriment.
It is true that since that time a certain much more décolleté dance has found its way from the dance hall to the masked ball, and from the masked ball has insinuated itself into some salons; a dance which would be fascinating, and which would have a genuine character of its own, were it not that most of the people who dance it substitute burlesque for grace and indecency for _abandon_. But that dance was not in evidence at Monsieur le Marquis de Grandvilain’s wedding.