Belinda wanted to run away from the ballroom but her sore, welted bottom was hurting so bad that she just couldn't do anything else but sat in the bucket which was full with the ice, since the maid brought the battle of wine in it. Crying and sobbing bitterly the German girl screamed, when the cold ice touched her tender hot bottom, but after a few minutes she felt herself a bit better.

While her unfortunate rival tried to comfort herself even a bit, Hélène was clinking glasses with James. She thanked him for protecting her honor and admired his powerful hand and literature talent, making herself sure, that Belinda'll hear every her and, more important, his word.