composed a tricolour of the same hues as the Hungarian flag. The
beautiful hanging-lamp shed a green light, the glowing coals in the
grate threw a reddish tint over the surrounding objects, and the large,
richly-sculptured bed-canopy was all ablaze with white electric lights,
arranged like a chain of diamonds above the heavy purple velvet hangings
which encircled the couch and gave it a cosy and well-shaded effect.

We had hardly finished our first cigar, when Mrs. Dumany, or, as I
should call her, the countess, came in. She wore a white wrapper,
covered with costly lace and leaving her beautiful arms bare below the
loose lace-trimmed sleeves. She led little James into the room, and,
turning to her husband, she said--"This boy obstinately refuses to sleep
anywhere but with his father, just as before we sent him to the
Institute."

The little fellow was simpering, and tottered drowsily to and fro. He
was evidently very sleepy. Mr. Dumany took him up on his lap, unbuttoned
his little boots, and pulled off the tiny socks. The mother stood there,
looking on unconcerned, and presently she said, "Good-night!" and went
out of the room.

The father undressed the child, and put him to bed; then he drew the
curtains aside; the child knelt in bed, folded his little hands, and
evidently said his prayers, for I saw his lips move; but I could not
hear a word. After he had finished, his father kissed him tenderly,
covered him up with the angora rug, and, letting down the curtains,
returned to me.

He had hardly sat down, when the bed-curtains moved, and the cherubic
little head peeped out. "Papa! Papa!" said the child.