ched him, bowed low with his
hands on his breast, and then withdrew after this dumb greeting to take
possession of a chair at the lower end of the hall. It was only when he
saw the way in which he comfortably settled himself in it that Felix
recognized him. But just as he was on the point of going after Rossel,
a young Greek, gorgeously dressed in full armor, attracted his
attention. He and his partner, a beautiful girl, were dancing madly in
and out among the waltzing couples, yet without creating the slightest
confusion.

"Stephanopulos!" whispered Felix. "Do you know his partner?" Angelica
shrugged her shoulders, and apparently preferred to leave the question
unanswered. There was no lack of pretty girls, and, although they
belonged to the most different social ranks, they all bore themselves
with the like respectability, and, with all their freedom, with natural
good taste. The young architect stepped up to say good-evening to him.
He wore a becoming Flemish costume, and his companion, who was not
exactly pretty, but looked sensible and modest, was dressed as a
mediaeval burgher's daughter, with a large coif and ruffles about the
neck. Then the couple danced a graceful provincial dance to the
_Laendler_ that the band was playing, waltzing round and round in the
same spot, or separating in fantastic figures to approach each other
again and take each other by the finger-tips.

Kohle also danced, but entirely by himself, in an exceedingly comical
costume, for he represented St. Dionysius, who was accustomed to carry
his decapitated head under his arm. For this purpose he had rigged up
an immense cabbage-head, had painted it and hung it round with long
horse-hairs, while his own head was ingeniously encircled by a huge
aureole, from which there hung a golden fringe covering his face, so
that, from a distance, this yellow, dazzling disk seemed to rest
immediately on the neck. This figure, half ghastly, half droll, slowly
swung itself about among the whirling couples, to the sound of the
music, occasionally going through with a little extemporaneous
buffoonery, especially with the Capuchin, who evinced a deep respect
for the holy man, which he expressed by incessantly offering him his
snuffbox, and by mating frantic efforts to kiss the head of the martyr.

"Where is Schnetz?" asked Felix. Angelica appeared not to have heard
the question; for just at this moment they arrived at the side of the
hall where the windows wer