tion.

"Dancing, sir, is not merely a pleasure, an amusement; no, it is of
great social interest. Why, the question of marriage is closely
connected with dancing. At present, in France, marriage is languishing.
That is proved by statistics. Well, I am convinced that if there are
fewer marriages it is because there is less dancing. Consider this first
of all, that to know how to dance well, very well, is, for an agreeable
young man who is without fortune, a great advantage in society. One of
my pupils, sir, has recently married extremely well. He was a very
ordinary kind of youth, who had tried everything and had succeeded in
nothing; but he was a first-rate waltzer, and he danced away with two
millions."

"Two millions!"

"Yes, two millions, and they were two cash millions; she was an orphan,
no father nor mother--all that can be dreamed of. He clasped that young
lady (she was very plump). Well, in his arms, she felt herself light as
a feather. She thought of but one thing--waltzing with him. She was as
one wild. He gave her a new sensation, and what is it women desire above
all things? To have new sensations, in short, she refused marquises,
counts, and millionaires. She wanted him only. She got him, and he was
penniless, and his name is Durand. Ah, do not repeat his name; I
oughtn't to have told you."

"Don't be afraid."

"After all, you can repeat it; it doesn't matter, it's such a common
name. There is public policy in love-matches which cause a rich girl to
marry a poor man, or a poor girl to marry a rich man. It sets money
circulating, it prevents its remaining in the same place, it keeps
capital moving. Well, three-fourths of the love-matches were formerly
made by the dance. Now there are short interviews in parlors, in
galleries, and at the Opera Comique. They chat; that's all right, but
chatting is not sufficient. Wit is something, but not everything. A
waltz furnishes much knowledge that conversation cannot. Dress-makers
nowadays are so wily. They know how to bring out this point and hide
that; they remodel bad figures. They give plumpness and roundness to the
thin; they make hips, shoulders--everything, in fact. One doesn't know
what to expect, science has made such advances. The eye may be deceived,
but the hand of an experienced dancer never! A waltzer with tact knows
how to find out the exact truth about things."

"Oh! oh!"

"Remaining all the time, sir, perfectly respectful and perfectly
reserve