squirrel
in the old upper town beyond the Tepl, and enlisting the interest of all
the neighbors; the negro door-keeper at the Golden Shield who ought to
have spoken our Southern English, but who spoke bad German and was
from Cairo; the sweet afternoon stillness in the woods; the good German
mothers crocheting at the Posthof concerts. Burnamy as a young poet
might hate felt the precious quality of these things, if his senses had
not been holden by Miss Triscoe; and she might have felt it if only he
had done so. But as it was it would be lost upon their preoccupation;
with Mrs. Adding and Kenby it would be hopeless.

A day or two after Mrs. March had met Mrs. Adding, she went with
her husband to revere a certain magnificent blackamoor whom he had
discovered at the entrance of one of the aristocratic hotels on the
Schlossberg, where he performed the function of a kind of caryatid, and
looked, in the black of his skin and the white of his flowing costume,
like a colossal figure carved in ebony and ivory. They took a roundabout
way through a street entirely of villa-pensions; every house in Carlsbad
but one is a pension if it is not a hotel; but these were of a sort of
sentimental prettiness; with each a little garden before it, and a bower
with an iron table in it for breakfasting and supping out-doors; and he
said that they would be the very places for bridal couples who wished
to spend the honey-moon in getting well of the wedding surfeit. She
denounced him for saying such a thing as that, and for his inconsistency
in complaining of lovers while he was willing to think of young married
people. He contended that there was a great difference in the sort of
demand that young married people made upon the interest of witnesses,
and that they were at least on their way to sanity; and before they
agreed, they had come to the hotel with the blackamoor at the door.
While they lingered, sharing the splendid creature's hospitable pleasure
in the spectacle he formed, they were aware of a carriage with liveried
coachman and footman at the steps of the hotel; the liveries were very
quiet and distinguished, and they learned that the equipage was waiting
for the Prince of Coburg, or the Princess of Montenegro, or Prince Henry
of Prussia; there were differing opinions among the twenty or thirty
bystanders. Mrs. March said she did not care which it was; and she was
patient of the denouement, which began to postpone itself with
delicate de