handsome
young man, in whom, despite his civilian's dress, the cavalry officer
was recognizable at the first glance, and whom the count introduced as
his cousin, Count Gaston. He seemed to feel perfectly at home, and even
at the table, where with amicable familiarity he drew Edwin down by his
side, almost wholly supported the conversation, which as usual turned
upon women, horses, and hunting.

When the champagne, which was not spared, began to heat the brains and
loosen the tongues of even the quieter members of the company, the
young gentleman turned to his neighbor, who had hitherto been a silent
listener, and said in a low tone:

"There! I've done my share by dint of friction, in putting some
enthusiasm into these wooden images and now the champagne must keep it
up. I hope, my dear sir, you don't suppose I enjoy this insipid gabble.
But what would you have? See how my cousin, the count, sits at his own
table with a face like the statue of the Commandant. If I don't
victimize myself and talk nonsense, the supper will be as tiresome and
silent as a funeral feast. So I must introduce subjects that amuse the
gentlemen, even though they may be terribly out of taste. But now let's
renew our acquaintance. Of course you don't remember our meeting a few
years ago in Berlin, at the rooms of one of my intimate friends, young
Baron L., to whom you were acting as private tutor, while he was
preparing to pass his examination for one of the higher government
offices. He's now Secretary of Legation at Constantinople, and I hope
does honor to your teaching. I am still what I was then, a man who
learns nothing in any school, except that of life. There must be such
odd sticks! But I can tell you, I no longer sit quite at the bottom of
the class in my school; for instance, I have long since left behind the
tasks at which our worthy companions are perspiring. You've been
introduced to them all after the ridiculous fashion of murmuring a
name. Allow me to make, you better acquainted with individuals. My left
hand neighbor, who is addressed as Herr Colonel, is, as you've
doubtless already supposed from his prominent cheek bones and peculiar
accent, of Slavonian descent; a Pole of the good old race of Oginsky,
who, _as he says_, having been compelled through a disagreement with
the Russian authorities, to enter the Austrian service, was promoted in
the Italian war to the rank of colonel; then, _as he says_, honorably
discharged in conseq