certainly begin with the ladies.

"Here's one right at the top," said Lady Szentirmay, "let us begin with
him. If he were an ordinary man instead of a nobleman, they would call
him badly behaved. He thinks ill of every woman except his own wife, for
of her he never thinks at all, and is violent and passionate besides.
When he flies into a rage he does not pick his words, nor looks about to
see whether women or only men are near. In the most mixed society, where
two or three young girls at least must be present, he tells such queer
stories that even the more sensitive of the men cannot but blush. Yet he
is a great patriot, whose name is well known and admired; so he claims
respect, and must not be blamed like other men. The respect in which he
is held, however, is the best weapon to use against him. He will pay
court to you impetuously, and you will not be able to avoid him; but all
you have to do is to praise him for his political virtues. That always
holds him in check. I have tried it, and never known it to fail."

"Let's tick him off," said Fanny. "Count Imre Szepkiesdy: that's his
name, is it?"--and she underscored him with her lead pencil, and wrote
underneath, "A great and very estimable man!"

"Here comes another high and mighty gentleman," resumed the Countess.
"If he had not a title, I don't know that the world would recognize him
at all. _I_ have never been able to discover what qualities he
possesses, though I have the privilege of meeting him once a month. One
thing, however, I can label him with: he has a tremendous appetite, and
yet is always complaining that he cannot eat. He is a very amiable man:
before dinner he complains that he has no appetite, and after dinner
that he has over-eaten himself, and if you don't offer him anything he
sulks and starves. He doesn't give much trouble therefore."

"Let us write after his name then: 'Baron George Malnay, an amiable
man.'"

"Here is a dear silly, Count Gregory Erdey. He is the most delightful
fellow in the world, and can keep the whole company in convulsions with
his quips and cranks. He can imitate the absurdities of costume of every
nation, and can present you with an Englishman, a Spaniard, a Frenchman,
and a Jew by a mere twist of his hat. The very simplicity of his
absurdity makes him the most harmless of men. You cannot imagine him
giving offence to any one. He would be incapable of deceiving a girl of
sixteen. His whole ambition is to make people