Mamselle Brorström had been rather repentant and thoughtful that morning, and had wondered if she really ought to go to the ball. She would no doubt have put all thought of it out of her mind if Fredrik Sandberg had not come and begged for the first waltz. But now that she was certain of a dancing partner she was again in good humour. She assured Fredrik Sandberg that she felt both favoured and honoured, and that nothing would afford her greater pleasure than to let him dance with her.
That was the very day of the ball. And in the evening Mamselle Brorström, arrayed in her red tulle dress (than which nothing could be prettier, she thought) appeared at the Masonic Lodge among Karlstaders and Fair visitors. Stalking through the ladies' dressing room into the grand ballroom, she sat herself down on one of the small cushioned seats along the wall.
People stared, but she did not mind. Having been invited, she had as good a right as any one else to dance at the Fair Ball. She noticed that the other ladies all had acquaintances to chat with, but this did not trouble her; when once the music struck up for the dance, they'd see that she had as fine a partner as any of them.
The regiment band began to play. She saw the foundry clerks step up to the founderers' daughters, the lieutenants to the officers' ladies, and the shop clerks to the shopkeepers' girls—each took his partner. Soon everyone was on the floor whirling round—everyone
