you'll see that both are very tall men. Moreover,
these same brothers, Thaddaeus and Matthaeus von der Wende are noblemen
of a most ancient family. It's seldom that twins have so much fraternel
affection. Each is perfectly satisfied with half the usual portion of
common sense, and carefully guards against becoming wiser than the
other. We call them the Siamese twins, although they're not united by
means of any corporal bond, and of course there can be no question of
an intellectual one. However, they're rich and well bred and never
annoy anyone. Next comes a short, rather high shouldered gentleman
about fifty, with a white tie and crafty, humble smile, who says
little, eats a great deal, and hears everything. Don't get his ill
will, he's a piece of old family furniture, and was the physician,
confidant, etc., of the late countess; he is called Dr. Basler, and I'd
as readily trust my person to his physic, as my reputation to his
tongue. Beside him sits the steward, who'll join the hunting party
to-morrow and always drinks with us the night before, and the silent
gentleman on your other side is my cousin's private secretary, an
honest, clever soul, but afflicted with an unfortunate hobby. He's
trying to find the secret of perpetual motion. There, now! you know the
people assembled within this ancient house--even to the crown jewel,"
he added with a sigh, "which unfortunately disdains to shine except on
gala days."

"Are you speaking of the countess? I knew her several years ago, before
her marriage."

"And have not seen her since? Then you'll not recognize her. I confess
that upon first sight she made a great impression upon me. I was
prejudiced against the marriage, which I thought was a rash step on the
part of my dear cousin, after the style of his former _liaisons_.
Unequal marriages always have their difficulties, although of course
I'm sufficiently enlightened not to believe in 'blue blood.' But we see
every day, how uncomfortable it is for people of position to receive
into their circle a worthy little goose who feels 'honored' to live
under the shadow of a pedigree centuries old, or a pretentious heiress,
or any of the ordinary people whom it's all very well to love, but who
are too good or too bad to marry. It's easiest to get along with
actresses, opera singers--or for aught I care, ballet dancers. They at
least possess style, _savoir faire_, self-possession, and know us well
enough not to think us wholly unl