on as that could only proceed from the most degraded of human
beings.

"Sense!" exclaimed he, casting on Fink a look of deadly enmity; "he who
doubts it must be utterly devoid of sense himself."

"Well, well!" exclaimed Fink, in amazement; "I am not in that melancholy
plight, for I think the girl, or rather the young lady, uncommonly
lovely; and, had I not some small engagements elsewhere, I might feel
constrained to choose her for the mistress of my affections. As it is, I
can only admire her afar off."

"You are right," said Anton, squeezing his arm.

"Really," returned Fink, in his usual careless tone, "you begin well, it
must be allowed; go on, my son, and prosper."

And Anton did go on, and did his Mentor honor. He was indeed
intoxicated, but not with wine. The music, the excitement of the dance,
the gay scene around, inspired him; he felt self-confident, nay,
daring; and, one or two trifling solecisms excepted, behaved as if he
had been surrounded by waxlights and obsequious domestics all the days
of his life. He was a good deal remarked--made, indeed, quite a
sensation; while dark hints of a mystery attached to him spread from
corner to corner of the spacious rooms.

At length came the cotillon. Anton sought out Lenore, who exclaimed, "I
knew that you would dance it with me!" This was to both the happiest
part of the whole happy evening.

As to all that followed, it was a mere indistinct vision. Anton was
dimly conscious of walking about with Fink, of talking and laughing with
him and others, of bowing before the lady of the house, and murmuring
his thanks; of having his paletot reached him by a servant, and of
putting something into his hand; but all this was shadowy and unreal. He
only saw one thing clearly: a white cloak, with a silk hood and a
tassel--oh, that tassel! Once more the large eyes shone full upon him,
and he heard the whispered words, "Good-night!" Then came an
uninteresting dream of going up stairs with Fink, and but half hearing
his jesting comments; of entering a small room, lighting a lamp, and
wondering whether it was really here he lived; of slowly undressing, and
at length falling asleep.

CHAPTER XI.

Since the important evening above described, the dancing-lessons had
gone on regularly, and Anton, having got over the purgatory of the first
introduction, began to feel perfectly at home. Indeed, he became a
useful member of the association, and was a pattern of assiduity