I very much doubt if a Roman conqueror regarded the chained captive who followed his chariot with a more supreme pride than I bestowed upon that miserable old waiter who now bowed himself to the ground before me, and when I ordered my dinner for four o'clock, and said that probably I might have a friend to dine with me, his humiliation was complete. “I wish I knew the secret of your staying here,” said Mary Crofton, as we drove along; “why will you not tell it?” “Perhaps it might prove indiscreet, Mary; our friend Potts may have become a _mauvais sujet_ since we have seen him last?” I wrapped myself in a mysterious silence, and only smiled. “Lindau, of all places, to stop at!” resumed she, pettishly. “There is nothing remarkable in the scenery, no art treasures, nothing socially agreeable; what can it possibly be that detains you in such a place?” “My dear Mary,” said Crofton, “you are, without knowing it, violating a hallowed principle; you are no less than leading into temptation. Look at poor Potts there, and you will see that, while he knows in his inmost heart the secret which detains him here is some passing and insignificant circumstance unworthy of mention, you have, by imparting to it a certain importance, suggested to his mind the necessity of a story; give him now but five minutes to collect himself, and I'll engage that he will 'come out' with a romantic incident that would never have seen the light but for a woman's curiosity.” “Good heavens!” thought I, “can this be a true interpretation of my character? Am I the weak and impressionable creature this would bespeak me?” I must have blushed deeply at my own reflection, for Crofton quickly added,-- “Don't get angry with me, Potts, any more than you would with a friend who 'd say, 'Take care how you pass over that bridge, I know it is rotten and must give way.'” “Let me answer you,” said I, courageously, for I was acutely hurt to be thus arraigned before another. “It is more than likely that you, with your active habits and stirring notions of life, would lean very heavily on him who, neither wanting riches nor honors, would adopt some simple sort of dreamy existence, and think that the green alleys of the beech wood, or the little path beside the river, pleasanter sauntering than the gilded antechamber of a palace; and just as likely is it that you would take him roundly to task about wasted opportunities, misapplied talents, and stigmatize as inglorious indolence what might as possibly be called a contented humility. Now, I would ask you, why should one man be the measure of another? The load you could carry with ease might serve to crush me, and yet there may be some light burdens that would suit _my_ strength, and in bearing which I might taste a sense of duty grateful as your own.” “I have no patience with you,” began Crofton, warmly; but his sister stopped him with an imploring look, and then, turning to me, said,--