ed on a speaker. The first impression of him was, that he was
chiefly neck-cloth, coat-collar, grand head, and gruffness. He had not
joined the ceremonial step from the reception to the dining saloon, but
had shuffled in from a side-door. No one paid him any deference save the
princess. The margravine had the habit of thrumming the table thrice as
soon as she heard his voice: nor was I displeased by such an exhibition
of impatience, considering that he spoke merely for the purpose of
snubbing me. His powers were placed in evidence by her not daring
to utter a sarcasm, which was possibly the main cause of her burning
fretfulness.

I believe there was not a word uttered by me throughout the dinner that
escaped him. Nevertheless, he did his business of catching and worrying
my poor unwary sentences too neatly for me, an admirer of real force and
aptitude, to feel vindictive. I behaved to him like a gentleman, as we
phrase it, and obtained once an encouraging nod from the margravine. She
leaned to me to say, that they were accustomed to think themselves lucky
if no learned talk came on between the Professor and his pupil. The
truth was, that his residence in Sarkeld was an honour to the prince,
and his acceptance of the tutorship a signal condescension, accounted
for by his appreciation of the princess's intelligence. He was a man
distinguished even in Germany for scholarship, rather notorious for his
political and social opinions too. The margravine, with infinite humour
in her countenance, informed me that he wished to fit the princess for
the dignity of a Doctor of Laws.

'It says much for her that he has not spoilt her manners; her health,
you know, he succeeded in almost totally destroying, and he is at it
again. The man is, I suspect, at heart arrant Republican. He may teach
a girl whatever nonsensical politics he likes--it goes at the lifting
of the bridegroom's little finger. We could not permit him to be near a
young prince. Alas! we have none.'

The Professor allowed himself extraordinary liberties with strangers,
the guests of the margravine. I met him crossing an inner court next
day. He interrupted me in the middle of a commonplace remark, and to
this effect:

'You are either a most fortunate or a most unfortunate young man!'

So profoundly penetrated with thoughtfulness was the tone of his voice
that I could not take umbrage. The attempt to analyze his signification
cost me an aching forehead, perhaps bec