‘I didn’t say so; I ought to qualify such a wholesale sentiment. Whether the right sort of foreigner does not emigrate I cannot tell. But the idea has struck others besides myself, and I must confess to a “Dr. Fell” sort of instinctive feeling about our distinguished friend.’ ‘Sheer prejudice and perhaps the least bit of jealousy, shall I say, on your part,’ continued Antonia. ‘But why jealousy?’ ‘Well, I mean it to apply to all of you men who run down the poor Count so. _We_ are all great admirers of him, and that, I am afraid, does not make him popular with your sex. Here’s Mr. Croker coming to claim me for the next dance. There now, he’ll abuse him―but he does that about everybody. Are you sure that this is our dance?’ mischievously commenced the young lady, as that gentleman arrived. ‘I think so,’ said Croker superciliously, ‘unless you have a chance of the Count, in which case of course you’ll throw me and Neuchamp over―I expect nothing else.’ ‘Not surely if I were engaged to Mr. Jermyn Croker!’ said she; and looking at her programme, ‘I really am engaged to you for the quadrille, but why am I accused of pursuing the Count von Schätterheims?’ ‘Because every one runs after him―men, women, and children,’ said Croker. ‘The whole city seems transformed into a sort of Bedlam.’ ‘But why do they run after him?’ inquired Miss Frankston. ‘Why?’ repeated Mr. Croker, with an air of ineffable disdain, ‘because they’re all fools, I suppose; except a few, a very few.’ ‘And why are they excepted?’ said Ernest, who commenced to be amused at his daring unsparing cynicism. ‘Because they’re mad―stark, staring mad.’ ‘Now really, Mr. Croker, don’t you believe about the Count’s great wealth and estates? his charming manner at any rate can’t be put on.’ ‘_I_ believe in him. _I?_’ demanded Croker, with an air of intense and reproachful amazement ludicrous to witness. ‘Do you know what my opinion of the fellow is?’ ‘Can’t say, really; something very complimentary to him and diffident on your part, judging from Mr. Croker’s well-known character,’ said Antonia coolly. ‘Well, then, if you will have it,’ said that satirist wrathfully, and as if all necessity for social dissimulation had been obviated, ‘I believe the fellow is an impostor and a swindler; very likely a valet, or a courier, who has bolted with his master’s cash, clothes, and papers. As for his manners, everybody in the country he comes from has the same manner, from the kellner to the kaiser. His accent ought to betray him; but no one here knows German well enough to find it out.’ ‘Really, Mr. Croker, you can take away a man’s, a horse’s, or a country’s reputation more completely in less time than any one I ever met. You’re so delightfully bitter that I _must_ dance with you. Come along!’