She was out of breath, her eyes were dulled, her half-open lips were
scarcely able to whisper the indispensable: "merci, monsieur."

After a few moments' silence I said to her, assuming a very humble air:

"I have heard, Princess, that although quite unacquainted with you, I
have already had the misfortune to incur your displeasure... that you
have considered me insolent. Can that possibly true?"

"Would you like to confirm me in that opinion now?" she answered,
with an ironical little grimace--very becoming, however, to her mobile
countenance.

"If I had the audacity to insult you in any way, then allow me to have
the still greater audacity to beg your pardon... And, indeed, I should
very much like to prove to you that you are mistaken in regard to me"...

"You will find that a rather difficult task"...

"But why?"...

"Because you never visit us and, most likely, there will not be many
more of these balls."

"That means," I thought, "that their doors are closed to me for ever."

"You know, Princess," I said to her, with a certain amount of vexation,
"one should never spurn a penitent criminal: in his despair he may
become twice as much a criminal as before... and then"...

Sudden laughter and whispering from the people around us caused me to
turn my head and to interrupt my phrase. A few paces away from me stood
a group of men, amongst them the captain of dragoons, who had manifested
intentions hostile to the charming Princess. He was particularly well
pleased with something or other, and was rubbing his hands, laughing and
exchanging meaning glances with his companions. All at once a gentleman
in an evening-dress coat and with long moustaches and a red face
separated himself from the crowd and directed his uncertain steps
straight towards Princess Mary. He was drunk. Coming to a halt opposite
the embarrassed Princess and placing his hands behind his back, he fixed
his dull grey eyes upon her, and said in a hoarse treble:

"Permettez... but what is the good of that sort of thing here... All I
need say is: I engage you for the mazurka"...

"Very well!" she replied in a trembling voice, throwing a beseeching
glance around. Alas! Her mother was a long way off, and not one of
the cavaliers of her acquaintance was near. A certain aide-de-camp
apparently saw the whole scene, but he concealed himself behind the
crowd in order not to be mixed up in the affair.

"What?" said the drunken gentleman, winking to the