affair. We had quarrelled about other matters, and he had entered the
Prussian service.' 'I wish you had told me about him before.'

'Why should I? Do you think it is a pleasant subject for conversation?
As his name was not mine, thank God, there was a chance that you might
never know nor hear of him.'

'I see why you do not wish me to enter the army.'

'Yes,' answered Greifenstein laconically, and he once more walked
forward.

For some time neither spoke. Greifenstein's profound hatred of his
dishonoured brother was too deeply stirred to allow of his continuing
the conversation, and in a different way the younger man was quite as
much affected as his father. When the student with whom he had fought
had cast in his teeth the evil deeds of Kuno von Rieseneck, he had
unhesitatingly denied the story, thinking it a merely gratuitous insult
invented on the spur of the moment. No one present during the
altercation had thought fit to confirm the tale, and Greif had wreaked
his vengeance upon his enemy in the most approved fashion, in the
presence of the assembled 'Korps.' But the words had taken effect and
he had determined to learn from his father's lips whether they had any
foundation in fact. Being satisfied of the truth of the story, however,
his mood changed. No one who has not studied the character of the
German gentleman--the old-fashioned Edelmann--will readily understand
how directly he feels himself injured by the disgrace of a relative
even very distantly removed. He has often little enough in the world
but his name and his pride of caste, but as compared with the former he
holds his life as of no value whatsoever, and where the latter is