ll not have to blush for the Dalton blood," said the boy,
enthusiastically; and he revelled in a dream of the old Count's ecstasy
on finding a nephew so worthy of their name, and in his fancy he saw
pictures of future scenes in which he figured. All of these had the
same rose tint; for while in some he imagined himself winning the
high rewards of great achievements, in others he was the caressed and
flattered guest of rank and beauty. "To think that I should once have
been thus!" cried he, laughing at the conceit, "trudging along
the high-road with a knapsack on my shoulder, like a Bursch in his
'Wander-jahre;'" and then he vowed to himself that "he would have a
picture taken of his humble guise as first he started in life, to hang
up at some future day beside the decorated soldier he was yet to be."

Selfishness can wear many a mask. Sometimes it can array itself in
features almost noble, more often its traits are of the very meanest.
Frank's egotism was of the former kind. He wanted to attain distinction
by an honorable path, he would not have stooped to any other. He was
ready to do or dare all for greatness. No peril could deter, no danger
could daunt him; but yet was he totally deficient in that greatest
element of success, that patient discipline of the mind which, made
up of humility and confidence, can wait and bide its time, earning the
prizes of life before it claim them. His pride of family, however, was
his greatest blemish, since it suggested a false notion of distinction,
a pretension so groundless that, like a forged banknote, it was sure to
involve even the bearer in disgrace.

So full was he of himself and his own future, that he took but little
note of the way as he went. Avoiding, from a sense of pride, to
associate with the "Travelling Youths," as they are called, he walked
along from early morning to late evening, alone and companionless. It
was mostly a dreary and uninteresting road, either leading through dark
and gloomy pine forests or over great plains of swampy surface, where
the stubble of the tall maize, or the stunted vines, were the only
traces of vegetation. As he drew near the Tyrol, however, the great
mountains came in sight, while the continual ascent told that he was
gradually reaching the land of glaciers and snow-peaks. Day by day he
found the road less and less frequented: these lonely districts were
little resorted to by the wandering apprentices, so that frequently
Frank did not