annoying in their cursed complacency--their evident sunshiny happiness.
I've no woman to make sunshine for ME; and yet my heart tells me that
not one, but several such suns, would do good to my system.

"Who are those pert-looking officers," says I, peevishly, to the guide,
"who are talking to those vulgar-looking women?"

"The big one, with the epaulets, is Major von Schnabel; the little one,
with the pale face, is Stiefel von Klingenspohr."

"And the big blue woman?"

"The Grand-Ducal Pumpernickelian-court-architectress and
Upper-Palace-and-building-inspectress Von Speck, born V. Eyer," replied
the guide. "Your well-born honor has seen the pump in the market-place;
that is the work of the great Von Speck."

"And yonder young person?"

"Mr. Court-architect's daughter; the Fraulein Dorothea."

*****

Dorothea looked up from her novel here, and turned her face towards
the stranger who was passing, and then blushing turned it down again.
Schnabel looked at me with a scowl, Klingenspohr with a simper, the dog
with a yelp, the fat lady in blue just gave one glance, and seemed, I
thought, rather well pleased. "Silence, Lischen!" said she to the dog.
"Go on, darling Dorothea," she added, to her daughter, who continued her
novel.