baths, and in a few weeks' time they
were both established at the Hotel du Grand Monarque at Aix-la-Chapelle.

The removing his son to a dull watering-place, when he had so many
avocations at home, had been a great vexation to the Earl; but he was
delighted at the versatile spirits which made a holiday and delight of
the whole, and found an endless fund of interest and occupation even in
his attendance on the wearisome routine of health-seeking. German
books, natural history, the associations of the place, and the
ever-fresh study of the inhabitants and the visitors, were food enough
for his lively conversation; and the Earl, inspirited by improving
health, thought he had never enjoyed his son so much.

They were already old inhabitants of their hotel, when one afternoon
they were much amused by finding a consequential courier gesticulating
vehemently to the whole establishment on the apartments he was to
secure for a superb Milord Anglais, who seemed to require half the
hotel. Their sitting-room, overlooking the court, was especially
coveted, and the landlord even followed them upstairs with many excuses
to ask if they could exchange it for another for only two days. Lord
Ormersfield's negative had all the exceeding politeness of offended
dignity; and Louis was much amused at the surmises, with which he
consoled himself, that this was nothing but some trumpery speculator,
most likely a successful quack doctor--no one else went about in such a
style.

In a grave, grand way, he was not a little curious, and took care to
place himself where he could command a view of the court; while Louis,
making no secret of his own amusement, worked up an excitement to
entertain his father, and stood watching at the window.

'Crack! crack! there are the postilion's whips! Now for the Grand
Monarque himself--thundering under the archway! Why, there are only
two of them, after all!--a lady and a little yellow old man! Father,
you are right after all--he is the very pattern of a successful quack!
How tall the lady is! Halloo!' and he stood transfixed for a moment,
then sprang to the door, replying to his father's astonished
question--'Clara! Clara Dynevor!'

The party were in course of proceeding up the principal staircase--the
tall figure of a young lady in mourning moving on with so stately, so
quiet, and almost weary a manner, that Louis for a moment drew back,
doubting whether the remarkable height had not deceived him. H