I stepped toward him, and, although I never take snuff, I put out my hand in the direction of his snuffbox, saying:

"With your permission?"

The gentleman was just closing the box, but he hastened to reopen it, and said to me with an expression to which he tried to impart much significance:

"Just try that, and tell me what you think of it."

I saw that he attached great importance to the quality of his snuff. Indeed, when one has a nose of such dimensions, it is natural enough to give much thought to the question of snuff. I took an enormous pinch, and resigned myself to the necessity of inhaling it with all my force. The snuff caught in my nose and throat and eyes all at once. I choked and sneezed, but I tried to dissemble my inexperience and to appear well pleased.

My friend shook his head knowingly, as he asked:

"Well! what do you think of it?"

"Excellent! delicious! I have never taken any so good."

"Parbleu! I believe you. Do you recognize it?"

"No, frankly, I do not. But, perhaps, by trying to—wait a moment."

I did what I could to prolong the conversation, for I was determined not to part with my interlocutor until the orchestra played the first measure of the waltz. Unluckily, I was not well posted on the subject of snuff.

"It's of no use for you to think," continued the man with the snuffbox. "It's a mixture that I make myself. There's robillard in it, and Belgian, and caporal."

"Ah! I thought there was some caporal. I recognized that."

"There's very little of it. When I have mixed them in just the right proportions, I add two or three drops, no more, of eau de mÉlisse."

"Ah! that's what it is; I said to myself: 'It seems to me that I recognize that taste.'"

"The taste is barely perceptible; but it lessens the strength of the robillard, which makes people sick sometimes."

"Fichtre! robillard is quite capable of it, especially on an empty stomach. I have known people, who—but, after all, it depends on whether you're used to it."

At that moment, I cut such an idiotic figure in my own eyes that I was tempted to laugh in my own face. Luckily, I had to do with a party who seemed to be of about the same calibre.

"Monsieur," he said, as he closed his snuffbox, "this is the result of protracted study; and yet, I never studied chemistry!"

"You astound me! I would have sworn that you were a chemist, simply on the strength of your snuff."

"That is what many people have said; but I ought to tell you that I have taken snuff ever since I was thirteen years of age."

"You are quite capable of it!"

"It was prescribed for a disease of the eyes—which, by the way, it didn't cure. I tried to make Anna take it for an ear trouble she had at seven years of age; but I couldn't do it. You can't imagine, monsieur, all of that child's devices to avoid taking snuff. In the first place, she used to hide my snuffbox, and more than once she threw it out of the window; then she filled it with very—unpleasant things; I prefer not to say what they were, but she spoiled my snuff, and she tried to disgust me with it. Ah! what a mischievous little witch! Who would believe it now, eh?"

I made no reply, for his mention of Anna reminded me that my partner had called the bride by that name. Was I conversing with some near relation of the newly married pair? The thought disturbed me, and I tried to lead the conversation back to the snuff. Once more I held out my hand, saying:

"I wonder if I might venture to ask for another pinch—it's so very good! And now that I know what it's made of, I shall relish it better."

My gentleman solemnly took his snuffbox from his pocket, and was about to open it, when a girl of fourteen or fifteen years, and very ugly, ran up to him, crying:

"Uncle Guillardin, you mustn't forget that you're going to dance with me first; I want to dance, I do, and I've missed three already."

"Yes, yes, don't worry, Joliette; I'll dance with you, as I promised."

"The next one?"

"Yes, the next one."

"Cousin Archibald invited me twice, too, and then he didn't come to get me; that was awfully mean of him. I told him I'd complain to you, and he said: 'Go and polk, and let me alone.' That was all the nastier of him, because he knows I can't polk."

Monsieur Guillardin—I knew now my snuff taker's name—opened his box and offered it to me; and paying no further heed to the little girl, who remained by his side, he said:

"One day, monsieur, when I had persisted longer than usual in trying to make Anna inhale a few grains, it occurred to her to blow into the box with all her might just as I handed it to her. You can imagine the result: the snuff filled my eyes—she had taken the precaution to close her own; I suffered horribly, and for two whole days I couldn't see. But after that, I ceased trying to give her snuff—Take a pinch."

I sacrificed myself a second time. I have no idea how I succeeded in inhaling it, but I know that my eyes smarted and that I felt strongly inclined to weep.

Mademoiselle Joliette, the inaptly named little girl, who had remained with us, roared with laughter.

"I should think monsieur was trying to be like you, uncle, when Cousin Anna blew into the snuffbox," she said.

"What! are you still here, Joliette? Go back to my daughter, for you are maid of honor, you know, and your station is beside the bride."

But Mademoiselle Joliette began to smile in a singular fashion, which raised her eyebrows—they were naturally too high—and gave to her face the effect of a mask. Her eyes were fixed upon me; she apparently had something to say, and dared not say it; my presence seemed to embarrass her. For my part, being by that time perfectly sure that the individual with the huge nose was the bride's father, I deeply regretted having addressed him, and I looked every minute in the direction of the orchestra, hoping to see the musicians take their instruments.

Monsieur Guillardin seized the opportunity to fill his own nostrils with snuff; that operation took some time, for each of them must have held half an ounce; but suddenly Mademoiselle Joliette threw up her head and began:

"Well, I don't care, uncle; I'm going to tell you why I am staying here. It's because Cousin Archibald, who was staring at monsieur, said to me just now: 'Joliette, go and ask father who that man is that he just gave a pinch of snuff to, and that he's talking to now. I don't know the man, and I don't think he's been here long. I want to find out who he is, because there are sharp fellows who sneak into wedding parties sometimes when they are not invited, so as to stuff themselves with cakes and ices. But I don't propose to have any such tricks played on us.'—That's what my cousin told me to ask you."

Imagine my plight; imagine the figure I cut while that detestable little Joliette was saying all this. I am certain that I changed color several times. However, I took the boldest course; I forced myself to laugh, and to act as if I considered the question extremely amusing. When he saw me laugh, the venerable gentleman with the huge nose deemed it fitting to do the same, murmuring:

"Ha! ha! That's a pretty good one! I recognize my son Archibald there. Oh! he's a hothead. Ha! ha! ha! why, if anyone should presume to join our party without an invitation, he'd annihilate him; he'd begin by jumping at his throat, like a bulldog. Ha! ha! it's very amusing! My dear love, just go and tell him that monsieur is—that monsieur's name is—that I am talking with——"

Monsieur Guillardin looked at me as he uttered these incomplete sentences. He was just beginning to realize that he too did not know me, and he awaited my reply with his nostrils open wider than his eyes.

I cannot describe my sensations; I felt huge drops of perspiration on my forehead, my mouth was parched. It was not stout Archibald's wrath that alarmed me; but to be treated as a suspicious character, as an intruder who had come there to get ices and punch! Ah! that thought drove me mad, and I realized all the impropriety of my conduct. I would have been glad to vanish through a trapdoor, like stage demons, and take the risk of breaking a bone or two in my descent.

At that moment the orchestra gave the signal for the waltz.—O blessed music! never didst thou seem to me so sweet, so melodious, so alluring! I bowed to the bride's father, saying:

"I beg your pardon, but I am engaged for this dance."

And I fled toward the pretty brunette, who was my last hope, my anchor of safety. Probably my face betrayed a part of the torment and anguish that I had just experienced, for the lady rose quickly and put her arm about me. We began to waltz, and she at once opened the conversation.

"What in heaven's name is the matter, monsieur? you seem much less cheerful than you were—and that secret that you were to confide to me——"

"Oh! I am going to tell you everything, madame; I shall be too happy if you deign to be indulgent to me, and to understand that this is only an escapade, reprehensible no doubt, but undeserving of—— Mon Dieu! I don't know what I am saying."

"Speak, I beg you; explain yourself."

"Of course—I believe I am treading on your foot now."

"That's of no consequence."

"First of all, madame, I must tell you that my name is Charles Rochebrune, that I was born in Paris, of respectable parents; I can easily prove what I assert."

"Great heaven! do you take me for an examining magistrate? Why do you tell me all this?"

"So that you may know that I am not a mere vagrant. I had some fortune once, and I still have about eight thousand francs a year."

"Does this mean that you desire to marry me, monsieur? It is my duty to warn you that I am married."

"No, madame, no; I don't say all this as a prelude to asking your hand; but so that you may know that I am not a nobody, a vagabond."

"Oh! I assure you, monsieur, that you haven't the look of one."

"True; but looks are so deceitful that sometimes—— Mon Dieu! now I am out of step."

"Never mind; pray finish."

"Very well! understand, then, madame, that I dined at this restaurant to-day with a number of other persons, all men. The dinner was given by DuprÉval, a solicitor, who is about to marry. We celebrated his farewell to bachelorhood and drank to his approaching marriage; which is equivalent to telling you, madame, that the champagne was not spared. The dinner was prolonged to a late hour; we heard the music of this ball and of the one in the rear—for there's another wedding party there."

"I know it, monsieur. Well?"

"We were just going away, another young man and myself, who were the last to leave our dining-room, when the music, the delicious waltz they were playing, gave birth to the most insane idea."

"Ah! I believe I can guess."

"A little enlivened by the champagne, seduced by the melodious music—in short, madame, Balloquet said to me—Balloquet is my friend's name: 'Let's join the festivities, although we are not invited. Do you go to one, and I'll go to the other. If anybody notices our intrusion, if we are questioned, we'll say that we have made a mistake in the party.'—I allowed myself to be led away by Balloquet's reasoning; he went into the other ballroom, and I—I came here."

Instead of being indignant, as I feared, my partner burst into a hearty laugh, which the music hardly sufficed to drown. I allowed her to laugh freely for several seconds, then I continued:

"So you forgive me, madame?"

"Oh! absolutely, monsieur. What you have done doesn't seem to be very criminal. It's a little audacious, perhaps, but so amusing!"

"But, madame, it is most essential now that somebody should act as my sponsor; for the bride's brother, Monsieur Archibald, has noticed me; and just now, while I was conversing, unwittingly, with an immense nose, which proves to belong to the bride's father——"

"Monsieur Guillardin?"

"Even so. Well, as I was saying, a young person, instructed by this corpulent Monsieur Archibald, came and asked Monsieur Guillardin who I was. It seems that Monsieur Archibald is not always affable, and that he would probably take this pleasantry of mine badly. As for myself, madame, I realize that I have done wrong, that I have been guilty of a reckless piece of folly; but if this Monsieur Archibald tells me so in unseemly language, I swear that I am not of a temper to put up with it."

My pretty brunette had ceased to laugh.

"In truth," she murmured, "Anna's brother is the sort of fellow who doesn't understand practical jokes. He's a fool, and, being a fool, he is exceedingly sensitive; he loses his temper and quarrels over an idle word. He is very strong, it seems, and that gives him much self-assurance."

"It matters little to me how strong he is! I am no boxer, myself, and I don't fight as street porters do."

"Mon Dieu! what is to be done?"

"If you would condescend, madame, to be kind enough to say that I am an acquaintance of yours, that you invited me to come here—in a word, if you would present me?"

"I would ask nothing better if I were alone here; but my husband is with me, and he knows everything and sees everything; he's worse than the Solitaire. He would ask me instantly where I met you."

"See, madame, how they are staring at me already! Look, as we pass Monsieur Archibald, he points me out to several gentlemen standing near, and I have no doubt that he is saying to them: 'Do you know that man?' and they all say no."

"Oh! mon Dieu! you make me shudder, monsieur!"

"Look out for me when the waltz comes to an end—and I fancy that will be soon."

"But I don't want them to turn you out. You waltz so well—really, it would be a great pity."

"You are too kind, madame; however, if I am not taken under somebody's protection, it looks as if the affair would turn out badly for me."

"Mon Dieu! if only FrÉdÉrique were here! she would get you out of the scrape on the instant, I know."

"What! a lady named FrÉdÉric?"

"Yes, monsieur—FrÉdÉri—que."

"Ah! I understand, the feminine of FrÉdÉric. And this lady?"

"She expected to come to Anna's wedding; she promised me she would; but she hasn't come."

"They are quickening the pace; a few turns more, and I shall be ignominiously expelled! What I shall regret most of all, madame, is you—who have been so indulgent to me, and whom it is impossible to see for an instant without ardently desiring to see you again."

"Oh! monsieur——"

"However, if Monsieur Archibald is discourteous, if he doesn't choose to accept a proper apology, I promise you that I will show him that he hasn't a dastard to deal with."

"Oh! don't talk like that! you make me tremble. If I should see my husband, I——"

My pretty partner did not finish her sentence; the music stopped, the waltz was at an end. But, almost instantly, my partner uttered a joyful exclamation and dragged me toward the outer door of the ballroom, saying in an undertone:

"Come, come; you are saved; here is FrÉdÉrique!"