2. THE BARON.

"Who is he?" I said. "And why does he sit always alone, with his back to
us, too?"

"Ah!" whispered the Frau Oberregierungsrat, "he is a BARON."

She looked at me very solemnly, and yet with the slightest possible
contempt--a "fancy-not-recognising-that-at-the-first-glance" expression.

"But, poor soul, he cannot help it," I said. "Surely that unfortunate fact
ought not to debar him from the pleasures of intellectual intercourse."

If it had not been for her fork I think she would have crossed herself.

"Surely you cannot understand. He is one of the First Barons."

More than a little unnerved, she turned and spoke to the Frau Doktor on her
left.

"My omelette is empty--EMPTY," she protested, "and this is the third I have
tried!"

I looked at the First of the Barons. He was eating salad--taking a whole
lettuce leaf on his fork and absorbing it slowly, rabbit-wise--a
fascinating process to watch.