ed, Herr Baron! Tell me what your "tour"
consisted of, dear Baronetto.' I danced this 'tour' for him, and
remained pausing in the position which I described to you long since.
'Charming; charming, indeed, my angelic friend!' he cried, and ringing
the bell, he shouted, 'Cochenille, Cochenille!'

"When Cochenille came in I had to sing him the music of my 'seize,'
which was composed by myself. 'Get your flageolet, Cochenille,' said
the Count, 'and play what the Baron has been singing.' Cochenille did
so tolerably correctly. I had to dance with the Count, taking the
lady's part, and I should not have believed it of the old gentleman,
while poising himself on his right tiptoe he whispered into my ear,
'Most incomparable of barons, my daughter Victorine is yours.'

"The lovely Victorine behaved rather coyly, as young ladies are apt to
do under such circumstances. She was reserved and silent, formal and
stiff, said neither 'Yes' nor 'No,' and on the whole behaved to me in
such a way that my hopes began to sink again. Besides, it so happened
that I just then, for the first time, found out that on the celebrated
occasion, when I put my arm round the cousin instead of Victorine in
the 'seize,' those two girls had planned this practical joke on purpose
just to make me the victim of a contemptible mystification. I really
was terribly distressed and annoyed, and could almost have cried, to
think that it had formed a part of the mutual interdependence of things
that I should be led about by the nose in this sort of way. But those
doubts were vain. Ere I knew where I was, wholly unexpectedly the
heavenly 'Yes' came trembling from her beautiful lips just when I had
fallen into the deepest dejection. It was only then that I found out
what a constraint Victorine had been putting upon herself before, for
she was now so wildly happy and in such amazing spirits that anything
like this condition had never been seen in her before. No doubt it was
only maidenly coyness that made her refuse to allow me to take her hand
or to kiss it, or to indulge in any kind of innocent little endearment.
Many of my friends did try to put a quantity of absurd nonsense into my
head. But the day before our wedding was destined to drive the last
shadow of doubt from my mind. Early on that morning I hastened to her.
Some papers were lying on her work-table. I glanced at them; they were
in her own handwriting. I began reading. It was a diary. Oh, heavens!
Oh, all