uarter of an hour Edward felt as if he had
long been domesticated with these simple but truly well informed people.

Two hours flew swiftly by, and then a bell sounded for supper; the
servants returned with lights, announced that the supper was on the
table, and lighted the company into the dining-room--the same into which
Edward had first been ushered. Here, in the background, some other
characters appeared on the scene--the agent, a couple of subalterns, and
the physician. The guests ranged themselves round the table. Edward's
place was between the baron and his wife. The chaplain said a short
grace, when the baroness, with an uneasy look, glanced at her husband
over Edward's shoulder, and said, in a low whisper,

"My love, we are thirteen--that will never do."

The baron smiled, beckoned to the youngest of the clerks, and whispered
to him. The youth bowed, and withdrew. The servant took the cover away,
and served his supper in the next room.

"My wife," said Friedenberg, "is superstitious, as all mountaineers are.
She thinks it unlucky to dine thirteen. It certainly has happened twice
(whether from chance or not who can tell?) that we have had to mourn the
death of an acquaintance who had, a short time before, made the
thirteenth at our table."

"This idea is not confined to the mountains. I know many people in the
capital who think with the baroness," said Edward. "Although in a town
such ideas, which belong more especially to the olden time, are more
likely to be lost in the whirl and bustle which usually silences every
thing that is not essentially matter of fact."

"Ah, yes, lieutenant," replied the baroness, smiling good-humoredly, "we
keep up old customs better in the mountains. You see that by our
furniture. People in the capital would call this sadly old-fashioned."

"That which is really good and beautiful can never appear out of date,"
rejoined Edward, courteously; "and here, if I mistake not, presides a
spirit that is ever striving after both. I must confess, baron, that
when I first entered your house, it was this very aspect of the olden
time that enchanted me beyond measure."

"That is always the effect which simplicity has on every unspoiled
mind," answered Friedenberg; "but townspeople have seldom a taste for
such things."

"I was partly educated on my father's estate," said Edward, "which was
situated in the Highlands; and it appeared to me as if, when I entered
your house, I were visitin