'Monseigneur, Punch must be a pretty wit indeed if he be like your Grace,' said Stafforth, with his usual desire to ingratiate himself with the great of the earth; but Monsieur de Zollern did not deign to answer. Like Madame de Ruth he preferred less directly expressed adulation. 'The fine flavour of flattery is delicious,' he was wont to aver, 'but like all else in life, to practise it requires an expert or a genius. Open compliments on any subject are like sausages, to be appreciated by peasants and our greasy friends the burghers, but for us--we cannot digest them!' So he looked away from Stafforth, giving his attention to the Graevenitz couple. 'Madame de Graevenitz,' he said, 'I observed you at Mass in the Cathedral of Rottenburg a few days since. God forgives the inattention at Mass of an old man when he sleeps; of a young man when he loves; and the wandering attention of an _old_ man blessed with a _young_ heart the Almighty will surely pardon, for He Himself must admire beauty, since He made it.' Madame de Graevenitz looked perturbed. She was a good and conscientious Catholic, and this light way of speaking of things sacred seemed alarmingly daring to her; also, being rather stupid, it bewildered her, and she had no answer for the old courtier. 'Ah, Monsieur de Graevenitz,' continued Zollern, 'what news from Mecklemburg? Does not your heart smite you when you think of the country which gave you birth?' 'Monseigneur, it was the only gift Mecklemburg ever gave me, and indeed, to-night I am hardly grateful for the gift. What is the use of life when it is so fierce a struggle not to die of hunger?' he said, and drained his glass of punch. 'I have such simple tastes.--Madame de Ruth, may I drink another glass of your excellent punch?--I have such simple tastes, and even these I cannot satisfy!' The Duke of Zollern watched him, and his fine smile was more of a commentary than many a spoken word. Graevenitz observing it broke into a laugh, which was echoed by the company. 'Monseigneur,' said Madame de Ruth, 'we have been sitting here in the dark for two hours discussing Graevenitz's future. I mean, of course, his fortune; we always say future when we mean fortune! He vows that if more gulden cannot be lured into his pocket, he must retire from court. We can find no way out of our friend's dilemma. Can you suggest some course?' 'Madame, to serve a friend of yours I am always ready! Surely Serenissimus will not willingly lose a courtier he has delighted in; but at this moment, I believe, Monsieur de Stafforth will bear me out when I say all the court charges are engaged; and Monsieur de Graevenitz, not being of the sex, cannot hold the most important charge of any court, for Madame de Geyling usurps that! So what can I suggest?'