When dinner was finished the party broke up, and most of them assembled in the gardens. The Baron, whose countenance had assumed its wonted cheerfulness, and who excused his previous dulness by the usual story of a sudden headache, proposed to Vivian to join the promenade. The gardens were very full, and the Baron recognised many of his acquaintance.

“My dear Colonel, who possibly expected to meet you here? Why! did you dine in the saloon? I only arrived this morning. This is my friend, Mr. Grey; Colonel von Trumpetson.”

“An Englishman, I believe?” said the Colonel, bowing. He was a starch militaire, with a blue frock coat buttoned up to his chin, a bald head with a few grey hairs, and long, thin mustachios like a mandarin’s. “An Englishman, I believe; pray, sir, will you inform me whether the household troops in England wear the Marboeuf cuirass?”

“Sir!” said Vivian.

“I esteem myself particularly fortunate in thus meeting with an English gentleman. It was only at dinner to-day that a controversy arose between Major von Musquetoon and the Prince of Buttonstein on this point. As I said to the Prince, you may argue for ever, for at present we cannot decide the fact. How little did I think when I parted from the Major that in a few minutes I should be able to settle the question beyond a doubt. I esteem myself particularly fortunate in meeting with an Englishman.”

“I regret to say, Colonel, that the question is one that I cannot decide.”

“Sir, I wish you good morning,” said the Colonel, very drily; and, staring keenly at Vivian, he walked away.

“He is good enough to fight, I suppose,” said the Baron, with a smile and shrug of the shoulders, which seemed to return thanks to Providence for having been educated in the civil service.

At this moment Lady Madeleine Trevor, leaning on the arm of the same gentleman, passed, and the Baron bowed. The bow was coldly returned.

“You know her Ladyship, then! well!”

“I did know her,” said the Baron; “but I see from her bow that I am at present in no very high favour. The truth is, she is a charming woman, but I never expected to see her in Germany, and there was some little commission of hers which I neglected, some little order for Eau de Cologne, or a message about a worked pocket-handkerchief, which I utterly forgot: and then, I never wrote! and you know. Grey, that these little sins of omission are never forgiven by women.”

“My dear friend, De Konigstein, one pinch! one pinch!” chirped out a little old odd-looking man, with a poudré head, and dressed in a costume in which the glories of the vieille cour seemed to retire with reluctance. A diamond ring twinkled on the snuffy hand, which was encircled by a rich ruffle of dirty lace. The brown coat was not modern, and yet not quite such an one as was worn by its master when he went to see the King dine in public at Versailles before the Revolution: large silver buckles still adorned the well-polished shoes; and silk stockings, whose hue was originally black, were picked out with clock-work of gold.

“My dear Marquis, I am most happy to see you; will you try the boulangero?”

“With pleasure! A-a-h! what a box! a Louis–Quatorze, I think?”

“Oh, no! by no means so old.”

“Pardon me, my dear De Konigstein; I think a Louis–Quatorze.”

“I bought it in Sicily.”

“A-a-h!” slowly exclaimed the little man, shaking his head.

“Well, good afternoon,” said the Baron, passing on.

“My dear De Konigstein, one pinch; you have often said you have a particular regard for me.”

“My dear Marquis!”

“A-a-h! I thought so; you have often said you would serve me, if possible.”

“My dear Marquis, be brief.”

“A-a-h! I will. There’s a cursed crusty old Prussian officer here; one Colonel de Trumpetson.”

“Well, what can I do? you are surely not going to fight him!”

“A-a-h! no, no; I wish you to speak to him.”

“Well, what?”

“He takes snuff.”

“What is that to me?”

“He has got a box.”

“Well!”

“It is a Louis–Quatorze; could not you get it for me?”

“Good morning to you,” said the Baron, pulling on Vivian.

“You have had the pleasure, Grey, of meeting this afternoon two men who have each only one idea. Colonel von Trumpetson and the Marquis de la Tabatière are equally tiresome. But are they more tiresome than any other man who always speaks on the same subject? We are more irritable, but not more wearied, with a man who is always thinking of the pattern of a button-hole, or the shape of a snuff-box, than with one who is always talking about pictures, or chemistry, or politics. The true bore is that man who thinks the world is only interested in one subject, because he himself can only comprehend one.”

Here Lady Madeleine passed again, and this time the Baron’s eyes were fixed on the ground.

A buzz and a bustle at the other end of the gardens, to which the Baron and Vivian were advancing, announced the entry of the Grand Duke. His Imperial Highness was a tall man, with a quick, piercing eye, which was prevented from giving to his countenance the expression of intellect, which it otherwise would have done, by the dull and almost brutal effect of his flat, Calmuck nose. He was dressed in a plain green uniform, adorned by a single star; but his tightened waist, his stiff stock, and the elaborate attention which had evidently been bestowed upon his mustachio, denoted the military fop. The Grand Duke was accompanied by three or four stiff and stately-looking personages, in whom the severity of the martinet seemed sunk in the servility of the aide-de-camp.

The Baron bowed very low to the Prince as he drew near, and his Highness, taking off his cocked-hat with an appearance of cordial condescension, made a full stop. The silent gentlemen in the rear, who had not anticipated this suspense in their promenade, almost foundered on the heels of their royal master; and, frightened at the imminency of the profanation, forgot their stiff pomp in a precipitate retreat of half a yard.

“Baron,” said his Highness, “why have I not seen you at the New House?”

“I have but this moment arrived, may it please your Imperial Highness.”

“Your companion,” continued the Grand Duke, pointing very graciously to Vivian.

“My intimate friend, my fellow-traveller, and an Englishman. May I have the honour of presenting Mr. Grey to your Imperial Highness?”

“Any friends of the Baron von Konigstein I shall always feel great pleasure in having presented to me. Sir, I feel great pleasure in having you presented to me. Sir, you ought to be proud of the name of Englishman; sir, the English are a noble nation; sir, I have the highest respect for the English nation!”

Vivian of course bowed very low; and of course made a very proper speech on the occasion, which, as all speeches of that kind should be, was very dutiful and quite inaudible.

“And what news from Berlin, Baron? let us move on,” and the Baron turned with the Grand Duke. The silent gentlemen, settling their mustachios, followed in the rear. For about half an hour, anecdote after anecdote, scene after scene, caricature after caricature, were poured out with prodigal expenditure for the amusement of the Prince, who did nothing during the exhibition but smile, stroke his whiskers, and at the end of the best stories fence with his forefinger at the Baron’s side, with a gentle laugh, and a mock shake of the head, and a “Eh! Von Konigstein, you’re too bad!” Here Lady Madeleine Trevor passed again, and the Grand Duke’s hat nearly touched the ground. He received a most gracious bow.

“Finish the story about Salvinski, Baron, and then I will present you for a reward to the most lovely creature in existence, a countrywoman of your friend, Lady Madeleine Trevor.”

“I have the honour of a slight acquaintance with her,” said the Baron; “I had the pleasure of knowing her in England.”

“Indeed! Fortunate mortal! I see she has stopped, talking to some stranger. Let us turn and join her.”

The Grand Duke and the two friends accordingly turned, and of course the silent gentlemen in the rear followed with due precision.

“Lady Madeleine!” said the Grand Duke, “I flattered myself for a moment that I might have had the honour of presenting to you a gentleman for whom I have a great esteem; but he has proved to me that he is more fortunate than myself, since he had the honour before me of an acquaintance with Lady Madeleine Trevor.”

“I have not forgotten Baron von Konigstein,” said her ladyship, with a serious air. “May I ask his Highness how he prospered in his negotiation with the Austrian troop?”

“Perfectly successful! Inspired by your Ladyship’s approbation, my steward has really done wonders. He almost deserves a diplomatic appointment for the talent which he has shown; but what should I do without Cracowsky? Lady Madeleine, can you conceive what I should do without Cracowsky?”

“Not in the least.”

“Cracowsky is everything to me. It is impossible to say what Cracowsky is to me. I owe everything to Cracowsky. To Cracowsky I owe being here.” The Grand Duke bowed very low, for this eulogium on his steward also conveyed a compliment to her Ladyship. The Grand Duke was certainly right in believing that he owed his summer excursion to Ems to his steward. That wily Pole regularly every year put his Imperial master’s summer excursion up to auction, and according to the biddings of the proprietors of the chief baths did he take care that his master regulated his visit. The restaurateur of Ems, in collusion with the official agent of the Duke of Nassau, were fortunate this season in having the Grand Duke knocked down to them.

“May I flatter myself that Miss Fane feels herself better?” asked the Grand Duke.

“She certainly does feel herself better, but my anxiety about her does not decrease. In her illness apparent convalescence is sometimes as alarming as suffering.”

The Grand Duke continued by the side of Lady Madeleine for about twenty minutes, seizing every opportunity of uttering, in the most courtly tone, inane compliments; and then trusting that he might soon have her Ladyship’s opinion respecting the Austrian troop at the New House, and that Von Konigstein and his English friend would not delay letting him see them there, his Imperial Highness, followed by his silent suite, left the gardens.

“I am afraid Lady Madeleine must have almost mistaken me for a taciturn lord chamberlain,” said the Baron, occupying immediately the Grand Duke’s vacated side.

“Baron von Konigstein must be very changed if silence be imputed to him as a fault,” said Lady Madeleine.

“Baron von Konigstein is very much changed since last he had the pleasure of conversing with Lady Madeleine Trevor; more changed than she will perhaps believe; more changed than he can sometimes himself believe. I hope that he will not be less acceptable to Lady Madeleine Trevor because he is no longer rash, passionate, and unthinking; because he has learnt to live more for others and less for himself.”

“Baron von Konigstein does indeed appear changed, since, by his own account, he has become, in a very few years, a being in whose existence philosophers scarcely believe, a perfect man.”

“My self-conceit has been so often reproved by you, that I will not apologise for a quality which I almost flattered myself I no longer possessed; but you will excuse, I am sure, one who, in zealous haste to prove himself amended, has, I fear, almost shown that he has deceived himself.”

Some strange thoughts occurred to Vivian while this conversation was taking place. “Is this a woman to resent the neglect of an order for Eau de Cologne? My dear Von Konigstein, you are a very pleasant fellow, but this is not the way men apologise for the non-purchase of a pocket-handkerchief!”

“Have you been long at Ems?” inquired the Baron, with an air of great deference.

“Nearly a month: we are travelling in consequence of the ill-health of a relation. It was our intention to have gone on to Pisa, but our physician, in consequence of the extreme heat of the summer, is afraid of the fatigue of travelling, and has recommended Ems. The air between these mountains is very soft and pure, and I have no reason to regret at present that we have not advanced farther on our journey.”

“The lady who was with your party at dinner is, I fear, your invalid. She certainly does not look like one. I think,” said the Baron, with an effort, “I think that her face is not unknown to me. It is difficult, even after so many years, to mistake Miss — ”

“Fane,” said Lady Madeleine, firmly; for it seemed that the Baron required a little assistance at the end of his sentence.

“Ems,” returned his Excellency, with great rapidity of utterance, “Ems is a charming place, at least to me. I have, within these few years, quite recurred to the feelings of my boyhood; nothing to me is more disgustingly wearisome than the gay bustle of a city. My present diplomatic appointment at Frankfort ensures a constant life among the most charming scenes of nature. Naples, which was offered to me, I refused. Eight years ago, I should have thought an appointment at Naples a Paradise on ear............