It appears Mme. de Vermandoise and the Comte were in there too, and saw what happened, and she told Heloise and me afterwards.  The fiances came and stood quite close to them, with only a bank of flowers between; and they said the palms were pretty and were growing very tall, and the Marquis coughed, and Victorine began scrabbling with her toes on the marble floor in that irritating way she has, and they neither of them spoke.  At last the Marquis dashed at it, and said, as she already knew, their parents had arranged they should marry, and he hoped he would make her happy.  At that moment the piano struck up very loud in the salon, and prevented Victorine from quite catching what he said; he got very red and repeated it again, but he mumbled so she still was not sure, and had to say “Pardon?” for the second time.  That upset the Marquis to such a point that he said “Damn,” which is the only English word he knows, and when Victorine looked horribly surprised, he dived into his waistcoat pocket and fished out the ring.  Then he took her hand, pulled off her glove backwards, and pushed it on to the first finger he came to, which happened to be the middle one!  He just said he hoped she would wear it for his sake; and when she exclaimed, “Mais, monsieur! ce n’est pas sur ce doigt que vous devez mettre la bague!” he hardly waited to apologise or put it right before he dragged her back to the salon and deposited her with the anxious mothers!

[Sidenote:  The Baronne’s Diplomacy]

Mme. de Vermandoise said she and the Comte nearly had a fit to keep themselves from laughing out loud.  Wasn’t it too comic, Mamma?  How I should hate to be betrothed like that!  However, Victorine seems to think half a loaf is better than no bread, for she kept her glove off all the rest of the evening, and looked at her ring with conscious pride.  It is a very nice one, a ruby and a pearl heart connected by a diamond Marquis’s coronet.  They ought to have added a money-bag representing the dot, and then the symbol would have been complete.

We had begun to dance when they got back, and, as the Marquis had not been there to claim me, I was valsing with Jean.  The Baronne kept the Vicomte close to her side all the rest of the evening—­she told me, as she kissed me in saying good-bye, that she had done it for peace sake, as she knew he and the Marquis would have had a quarrel otherwise, they were both so madly in love with me.  “Petite embrouillante d’heureuses familles va!” she said—­“Mais je t’aime bien quand meme!”—­She is a darling, the Baronne!  The Marquis stood there glowering, and never offered to dance with Victorine; she must have been cross!

We had another farewell all round when the valse was over—­Godmamma would not stay for another, and even “Antoine” seemed sorry to say “Adieu.” “Depechez-vous de vous marier,” he said, “et ensuite revenez aupres de nous.  J’ai envie de vous faire la cour, mais vous etes beaucoup trop dangereuse pour le moment.”