‘Oh, my dear sir, I have been very much about the world in my time, and have always made it my business to see each people in their own peculiar haunts. If at Vienna, I dine not at the “Wilde Man,” but at the “Puchs” in the Leopoldstadt. If in Dresden, I spend my evening in the Grün- Garten, beyond the Elbe. The bourgeoisie alone of any nation preserve traits marked enough for a stranger’s appreciation; the higher classes are pretty much alike everywhere, and the nationality of the peasant takes a narrow range, and offers little to amuse.’ ‘The count is a quick observer,’ remarked madame, with a look of pleasure sparkling in her eyes. ‘I flatter myself,’ rejoined he, ‘I seldom err in my guesses. I knew my friend here tolerably accurately without an introduction.’ There was something so kind in the tone he spoke in that I could have no doubt of his desire to compliment me. ‘Independently, too, of speaking most of the languages of Europe, I possess a kind of knack for learning a patois,’ continued he. ‘At this instant, I’ll wager a cigar with you that I ‘ll join that little knot of sober Belgians yonder, and by the magic of a few words of genuine Brussels French, I’ll pass muster as a Boss.’ The countess laughed heartily at the thought, and I joined in her mirth most readily. ‘I take the wager,’ cried I--‘and hope sincerely to lose it.’ ‘Done!’ said he, springing up and putting on his hat, while he made a short circuit in the garden, and soon afterwards appeared at the table with the Flemings, asking permission, as it seemed, to light a cigar from a lantern attached to the tree under which they sat. If we were to judge from the merriment of the little group, his success was perfect, and we soon saw him seated amongst them, busily occupied in concocting a bowl of flaming _ponche_, of which it was clear by his manner he had invited the party to partake. ‘Now Gustav is in his delight,’ said the countess, in a tone of almost pique; ‘he is a strange creature, and never satisfied if not doing something other people never think of. In half an hour he’ll be back here, with the whole history of Mynheer van Houdendrochen and his wife and their fourteen “mannikins”; all their little absurdities and prejudices he ‘ll catch up, and for a week to come we shall hear nothing but Flemish French, and the habitudes of the Montagne de la Cour.’ For a few seconds I was vastly uncomfortable; a thought glanced across me, what if it were for some absurd feature in me, in my manner or my conversation, that he had deigned to make my acquaintance. Then came the recollection of his generous proposal, and I saw at once that I was putting a somewhat high price on my originality, if I valued it at five thousand francs. ‘What ails you?’ said the countess, in a low, soft voice, as she lifted her eyes and let them fall upon me with a most bewitching expression of interest. ‘I fear you are ill, or in low spirits.’ I endeavoured to rally and reply, when she went on--