no doubt to make a quarrel with his rival. Not once did he come
near Tonton! Not once did he dance with her! But he danced with all the
young girls in the room and pretended to be very gay. While I was dancing
with him I said:

"How pretty Tonton is this evening!" And I understood the spite that made
him reply:

"Ah! mademoiselle, her beauty is certainly not to be compared with yours."

After the supper, which was magnificent, the bolero was danced. Twelve
couples were engaged, continually changing partners. Tonton danced with
Treville, Suzanne with Olivier, and I with Neville.

Alas, alas! all things earthly have an end, and at two in the morning the
ball was over. When we reached our chamber I saw that my sister had
something to tell me.

"Ah!" said she, "have patience. I will tell you after we get into bed."

[What she told was the still famous Saint Julien feud. Treville and
Neville were representatives of the two sides in that, one of the darkest
vendettas known in the traditions of Louisiana. The omission of this
episode in the present translation is the only liberty taken with the
original that probably calls for an apology.]

FOOTNOTES:
[21] Number of millions not stated.--TRANSLATOR.

XVII.

PICNIC AND FAREWELL.

The day of the picnic rose brightly. Oh, what a day we passed under those
grand trees, on the margin of that clear lake full of every imaginable
sort of fish! What various games! What pleasant companions! All our
friends were there except Treville de Saint Julien, and Madame Tonton gave
her smiles and sweet looks to Neville, who never left her a moment. Oh,
how I regretted that my father was not with us! He had gone to Opelousas.
He had bought several plantations in St. Martin parish, and in a region
called Fausse Pointe, and in another known as the Cote Gelee.

The days that followed were equally fete days--a dinner here, a dance
there, and everywhere the most gracious reception. At length came the day
for us to meet at La Fontaine--a real spring near St. Martinville,
belonging to Neville Declouet's uncle. About five in the afternoon we
gathered on the bank of the bayou. We never saw Tonton twice in the same
dress. To-day she was all in blue. Suddenly the sound of distant music,
and an open flat--not like our boat--approached, arched over with green
branches and flowers. Benches stood about, and in the middle the orchestra
played. In the prow stood the captain [Neville Declouet],