disagreeable; he smoked enormous cigars and began his drinking early
in the day: but his appearance gave no sign of these excesses. As
regards euchre and poker and the other distractions of the place he
was guilty of none. He evidently understood such games in
perfection, for he used to watch the players, and even at moments
impartially advise them; but Vogelstein never saw the cards in his
hand. He was referred to as regards disputed points, and his
opinion carried the day. He took little part in the conversation,
usually much relaxed, that prevailed in the smoking-room, but from
time to time he made, in his soft flat youthful voice, a remark
which every one paused to listen to and which was greeted with roars
of laughter. Vogelstein, well as he knew English, could rarely
catch the joke; but he could see at least that these must be choice
specimens of that American humour admired and practised by a whole
continent and yet to be rendered accessible to a trained
diplomatist, clearly, but by some special and incalculable
revelation. The young man, in his way, was very remarkable, for, as
Vogelstein heard some one say once after the laughter had subsided,
he was only nineteen. If his sister didn't resemble the dreadful
little girl in the tale already mentioned, there was for Vogelstein
at least an analogy between young Mr. Day and a certain small
brother--a candy-loving Madison, Hamilton or Jefferson--who was, in
the Tauchnitz volume, attributed to that unfortunate maid. This was
what the little Madison would have grown up to at nineteen, and the
improvement was greater than might have been expected.

The days were long, but the voyage was short, and it had almost come
to an end before Count Otto yielded to an attraction peculiar in its
nature and finally irresistible, and, in spite of Mrs. Dangerfield's
emphatic warning, sought occasion for a little continuous talk with