d by this romantic and chivalric attachment to such a
degree, that, as I pondered over it during sleepless nights, I was
childish enough to address myself in pathetic monologues, and even to
sigh lugubriously, "Seraphina! O Seraphina!" till at last my old uncle
woke up and cried, "Cousin, cousin! I believe you are dreaming aloud.
Do it by daytime, if you can possibly contrive it, but at night have
the goodness to let me sleep." I was very much afraid that the old
gentleman, who had not failed to remark my excitement on the Baroness's
arrival, had heard the name, and would overwhelm me with his sarcastic
wit. But next morning all he said, as we went into the justice-hall,
was, "God grant every man the proper amount of common sense, and
sufficient watchfulness to keep it well under hand. It's a bad look-out
when a man becomes converted into a fantastic coxcomb without so much
as a word of warning." Then he took his seat at the great table and
added, "Write neatly and distinctly, good cousin, that I may be able to
read it without any trouble."

The respect, nay, the almost filial veneration which the Baron
entertained towards my uncle, was manifested on all occasions.
Thus, at the dinner-table he had to occupy the seat--which many envied
him--beside the Baroness; as for me, chance threw me first in one place
and then in another; but for the most part, two or three officers from
the neighbouring capital were wont to attach me to them, in order that
they might empty to their own satisfaction their budget of news and
amusing anecdotes, whilst diligently passing the wine about. Thus it
happened that for several days in succession I sat at the bottom of the
table at a great distance from the Baroness. At length, however, chance
brought me nearer to her. Just as the doors of the dining-hall were
thrown open for the assembled company, I happened to be in the midst of
a conversation with the Baroness's companion and confidante,--a lady no
longer in the bloom of youth, but by no means ill-looking, and not
without intelligence,--and she seemed to take some interest in my
remarks. According to etiquette, it was my duty to offer her my arm,
and I was not a little pleased when she took her place quite close to
the Baroness, who gave her a friendly nod. It may be readily imagined
that all that I now said was intended not only for my fair neighbour,
but also mainly for the Baroness. Whether it was that the inward
tension of my feelings i