The town of Badstadt is most charmingly situated upon an elevated plateau, some 600 or 700 feet above sea-level, and in the midst of delightful scenery, which is to be found among the mountains which surround the town on every side but one. The mountains are clothed to their summits with pine, and these pine woods are amongst the most favoured places to which the “cure guests” of Badstadt resort. In the depths of the pine forest there is always, even in the hottest day, a refreshing coolness and an invigorating aroma, and to wander here with a book, or a companion and some luncheon, is a most pleasant method of killing the sultry hours of noon. One day is pretty much like another at Badstadt, although here is just sufficient variety to obviate any feeling of irksomeness. What will the fashionable Londoner think when, at six o’clock in the morning, he finds that he can no longer sleep because every one in the hotel is already stirring? There is nothing for it but to go with the stream, to get up and dress oneself (in the nattiest of lounging coats if of the male sex, in the most bewitching of light summer costumes if of the female), and away with the rest of the world to drink the water at the Betsinda Quelle, the most fashionable spring in all Europe. It is not seven o’clock, we are nearly four hours earlier from our beds than is our wont, the fresh morning air is bracing and delightful, the sun has not yet dissipated the dew, and yet the whole world of Badstadt is alive. Here beneath the trees of the Cur-garten are some 2000 or 3000 fashionables, all sauntering and talking, so that the hum of conversation is audible at a great distance, and forms a not inharmonious obbligato to the music of the orchestra in the Kiosk which is hard by. Few prettier sights than this can be seen or imagined. The avenue of limes offers in either direction, a most attractive vista; the sunlight comes glinting through the fret-work of leaves upon the gravel, creating little dancing shadows and lighting up the many and varied colours of the ladies’ costumes; the roses in the neighbouring flower-beds lend their bright colours to give the eye additional pleasure, while their aroma tickles yet another sense; and the ear is pleased by a performance, by an excellent band, of the best compositions of the best masters. The focus, as it were, of all this gaiety is the Betsinda Quelle, and most of the guests may be seen to advance to the edge of the health-giving fountain, which is enclosed in a sunken ornamental basin, and tender a glass for the prescribed dose of the water. The water contains a good deal of common salt and not much else, and is nearly as nasty as sea-water; but it is surprising to see how methodically and with how little fuss the _habitués_ get through their allotted portion. The physician probably said to this or that patient: “You are to drink two glasses of the Betsinda, and you are to walk for twenty minutes after