farcically pompous way of announcing my father's return, and looked
pleased, I suppose, for she added, 'Do you know Prince Hermann? He
spends most of his time in Eberhardstadt. He is cousin of the King, a
wealthy branch; tant soit peu philosophe, a ce qu'on dit; a traveller.
They say he has a South American complexion. I knew him a boy; and his
passion is to put together what Nature has unpieced, bones of fishes and
animals. Il faut passer le temps. He adores the Deluge. Anything
antediluvian excites him. He can tell us the "modes" of those days; and,
if I am not very much misinformed, he still expects us to show him the
very latest of these. Happily my milliner is back from Paris. Ay, and
we have fossils in our neighbourhood, though, on my honour, I don't know
where--somewhere; the princess can guide him, and you can help at the
excavations. I am told he would go through the crust of earth for the
backbone of an idio--ilio-something-saurus.'

I scrutinized Prince Hermann as rarely my observation had dwelt on any
man. He had the German head, wide, so as seemingly to force out the
ears; honest, ready, interested eyes in conversation; parched lips; a
rather tropically-coloured skin; and decidedly the manners of a gentleman
to all, excepting his retinue of secretaries, valets, and chasseurs--his
'blacks,' he called them. They liked him. One could not help liking
him.

'You study much?' he addressed the princess at table.

She answered: 'I throw aside books, now you have come to open the earth
and the sea.'

From that time the topics started on every occasion were theirs; the rest
of us ran at their heels, giving tongue or not.