wrong as little as possible. I went to the general's at the end of
the play, and only found five or six people there. I went up to a
canoness who was very fond of Italian poetry, and had no trouble in
engaging her in an interesting discussion. In half an hour the room was
full, my mistress coming in last on the general's arm. I was taken up
with the canoness and did not stir, and consequently Kettler did not
notice me, while the lady in great delight at seeing me left him no time
to examine his guests, and he was soon talking to some people at the
other end of the room. In a quarter of an hour afterwards supper was
announced. The canoness rose, took my arm, and we seated ourselves at
table together, still talking about Italian literature. Then came the
catastrophe. When all the places had been taken one gentleman was left
standing, there being no place for him. "How can that have happened?"
said the general, raising his voice, and while the servants were bringing
another chair and arranging another place he passed his guests in review.
All the while I pretended not to notice what was going on, but when he
came to me he said loudly,

"Sir, I did not ask you to come."

"That is quite true, general," I said, respectfully, "but I thought, no
doubt correctly, that the omission was due to forgetfulness, and I
thought myself obliged all the same to come and pay my court to your
excellency."

Without a pause I renewed my conversation with the canoness, not so much
as looking around. A dreadful silence reigned for four or five minutes,
but the canoness began to utter witticisms which I took up and
communicated to my neighbours, so that in a short time the whole table
was in good spirits except the general, who preserved a sulky silence.
This did not much matter to me, but my vanity was concerned in smoothing
him down, and I watched for my opportunity.

M. de Castries was praising the dauphin, and his brothers, the Comte de
Lusace and the Duc de Courlande, were mentioned; this led the
conversation up to Prince Biron, formerly a duke, who was in Siberia, and
his personal qualities were discussed, one of the guests having said that
his chiefest merit was to have pleased the Empress Anne. I begged his
pardon, saying,--

"His greatest merit was to have served faithfully the last Duke Kettler;
who if it had not been for the courage of him who is now so unfortunate,
would have lost all his belongings in the war. It was Duke Kettl