not to be the center of observation wherever they happen
to be. It has been said of a man of that stamp, that if he were at a
wedding he would wish to be the bridegroom, and if at a funeral to be
in the place of the corpse. At the dinner table of the Hotel de France
he reigned supreme. His strong point lay in the perpetration of the
most ghastly puns, which he would discharge first to the right and then
to the left, and finally, with a roar of laughter, over the whole
table. In his outward appearance, too, he sought to create a sensation.
He was not dressed, he was costumed. He wore long stockings,
knickerbockers and a tight-fitting jacket, and when he stood up, tried
to produce effects with his calves, spread his legs wide apart as if,
like the Colossus of Rhodes, ships were to pass beneath, and affected
sporting and athletic attitudes generally. He was accompanied by a lady
who had at first roused the horrified disgust of the others by her
appetite, which surpassed every known human limit, and then proceeded
to make herself still more hateful by a frequent change of costume.

Wilhelm's immediate neighbor was a lady of somewhat exuberant outline,
but extremely plainly dressed, and without a single ornament, of whom
at first he took no more notice than of the rest of the company. She
returned his silent bow at coming and going, and acknowledged the
little attentions of the dinner table--the handing of salt or entrees,
of bread or cider (the table beverage)--with a low "Merci, monsieur,"
accompanied by a pleasant smile and an inclination of the head. The
acquaintance began with a look. It was after a more than usually
exasperating pun from the man in the knickerbockers, and involuntarily
their eyes met, after which they exchanged glances each time he came
out with a particularly blatant piece of idiocy. They could not long
remain in doubt that their opinion on the prevailing conversation was
identical, and the unanimity of their tastes was still further
demonstrated by the fact that the lady was as silent during the meals
as Wilhelm.

The interchange of looks was presently followed by words. It was the
lady who broke the ice by alluding to a somewhat peculiar incident. It
happened to be market day, and Wilhelm had been watching with interest
the cheerful bustle in the High Street, and the new type of country
people: the men with their carts bringing in calves, pigs, and grain,
fine-looking fellows, with tall sturdy figu