He took off his gray beard, and thus looked much less venerable.  He then continued: 

“I said to this young man:  ’We will try, but it will be hard work.  One oughtn’t to begin dancing at twenty-eight.’  I limbered him up as best I could.  I had only two weeks to do it in.  I begged him to put off his departure, to obtain a reprieve of three or four months—­I could have made something of him.  He would not.  He went without knowing anything.  I often think of him.  He will represent us out there; he will represent us very badly; he will not be an honor to his country.  Please to remember that he may be called upon to take part in some official quadrille—­to dance, for instance, with an archduchess.  Well, if he slips up in it, with his archduchess, it will be charming!  All this is very sad indeed.  I am a Republican, sir, an old Republican, and it is painful to think that the republic is represented by diplomats who cannot distinguish between a change of foot and a simple step.  Do you know what is said in foreign courts?  ‘Why, who are those savages that France sends us?’ Yes, that’s what they say.  The diplomatic corps in the time of the Empire was not brilliant.  Oh no; those gentlemen did many foolish things.  Oh yes; but still they knew how to dance!”

And the good old bishop, seeing that I listened with much interest, went on with his brilliant improvisation.

“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.”