urishment in my room," he replied, in a voice that closed
the conversation and almost repented of the umbrella.

When we arrived at the pension there was very nearly an open riot.

I ran half way up the stairs, and thanked the Baron audibly from the
landing.

He distinctly replied: "Not at all!"

It was very friendly of the Herr Oberlehrer to have sent me a bouquet
that evening, and the Frau Oberregierungsrat asked me for my pattern of
a baby's bonnet!

*****

Next day the Baron was gone.

Sic transit gloria German mundi.

3. THE SISTER OF THE BARONESS.

"There are two new guests arriving this afternoon," said the manager of
the pension, placing a chair for me at the breakfast table. "I have
only received the letter acquainting me with the fact this morning.
The Baroness von Gall is sending her little daughter--the poor child is
dumb--to make the 'cure.' She is to stay with us a month, and then the
Baroness herself is coming."

"Baroness von Gall," cried the Frau Doktor, coming into the room and
positively scenting the name. "Coming here? There was a picture of her
only last week in 'Sport and Salon.' She is a friend of the court: I
have heard that the Kaiserin says 'du' to her. But this is delightful!
I shall take my doctor's advice and spend an extra six weeks here. There
is nothing like young society."

"But the child is dumb," ventured the manager apologetically.

"Bah! What does that matter? Afflicted children have such pretty ways."

Each guest who came into the breakfast-room was bombarded with the
wonderful news. "The Baroness von Gall is sending her little daughter
here; the Baroness herself is coming in a month's time." Coffee and
rolls took on the nature of an orgy. We positively scintillated.
Anecdotes of the High Born were poured out, sweetened and sipped: we
gorged on scandals of High Birth generously buttered.

"They are to have the room next to yours," said the manager, addressing
me. "I was wondering if you would permit me to take down the portrait of
the Kaiserin Elizabeth from above your bed to hang over their sofa."

"Yes, indeed, something homelike"--the Frau Oberregierungsrat patted my
hand--"and of no possible significance to you."

I felt a little crushed. Not at the prospect of losing that vision of
diamonds and blue velvet bust, but at the tone--placing me outside the
pale--branding me as a foreigner.

We dissipated the day in valid speculations. Decided it was too wa