Later on Henri returned.  “You are right,” he said gravely; “the American demoiselles are, indeed, divine dancers; but, may I say it? they are yet not like you.  Will you not give me one more turn, and then I must dance no more to-night; my aunt forbids it, on the absurd score that I’m an invalid.”

Willingly, Patty danced again with the young man, and as this time it was a fancy dance, the exquisite grace of the couple soon attracted the attention of the onlookers.  One by one the other couples ceased dancing, until at last Patty and Henri were alone upon the waxed floor, while the others looked admiringly on.  Inspired by the moment, Patty indulged in some fancy steps, which were quickly understood and repeated by Henri, and depending on a whispered word now and then for direction, they advanced and retreated, bowed and chasseed in an elaborate and exquisite minuet.

Henri’s disabled arm, so far from being an obstacle to his grace, seemed to lend a certain quaint dignity to his movements, and in his court dress he looked like a wounded knight who had returned triumphant from the tourney, to dance with his fair lady.

Great applause followed the final figure of their dance, and Henri led pretty Patty, blushing with the honours heaped upon her, to his aunt.  The old Ma’amselle kissed her dear little friend, and the tears in her eyes told Patty how much she had enjoyed the scene.

Then came the feast, which was all gaiety and merriment, and finally, by general acclamation, Patty was about to be crowned Queen of the New Year.

This, however, she would not allow, and taking the crown which was offered her, she went over and placed it on the white hair of her hostess, remarking that Ma’amselle was queen, and she herself the first lady in waiting.

The picture of pretty Patty as she stood by the side of the regal old lady, who sat, crowned, in her own chair of state, was worthy of a painter, and many who saw it wished it might have been transferred to canvas.

The festival broke up early, for the old Ma’amselle would not allow late hours for her children, and as soon as the last guest was gone she sent them scampering to bed, with strict injunctions for them not to reappear until noon the next day.

The next day was ushered in by a dismal, pouring rain, and certain outdoor pleasures which were planned for the afternoon had to be given up.

“But I’ll tell you what we will do,” announced Patty as they gathered in the great hall after luncheon, “we’ll have an afternoon of American fun, and we’ll show you French boys some tricks you never saw before.”

Having asked permission from Ma’amselle, who would not have refused her had she asked to build a bonfire on the drawing-room carpet, Patty took her friends to the kitchen.

The fat old chef was amazed, but greatly pleased that the American demoiselles should honour his precincts, and he put himself, his assistants and all his pantries at their service.