The friend of Colonel Albert was Baron Sergius, the baron who used to visit him in London at twilight in a dark brougham. Mrs. Neuchatel was greatly taken by his appearance, by the calmness of his mien, his unstudied politeness, and his measured voice. He conversed with her entirely at dinner on German philosophy, of which he seemed a complete master, explained to her the different schools, and probably the successful ones, and imparted to her that precise knowledge which she required on the subject, and which she had otherwise been unable to obtain. It seemed, too, that he personally knew all the famous professors, and he intimated their doctrines not only with profound criticism, but described their persons and habits with vividness and picturesque power, never, however, all this time, by any chance raising his voice, the tones of which were ever distinct and a little precise. “Is this the first visit of your friend to this country?” asked Myra of Colonel Albert. “Oh no; he has been here often--and everywhere,” added Colonel Albert. “Everywhere! he must be a most interesting companion then.” “I find him so: I never knew any one whom I thought equal to him. But perhaps I am not an impartial judge, for I have known him so long and so intimately. In fact, I had never been out of his sight till I was brought over to this country to be placed at Eton. He is the counsellor of our family, and we all of us have ever agreed that if his advice had been always followed we should never have had a calamity.” “Indeed, a gifted person! Is he a soldier?” “No; Baron Sergius has not followed the profession of arms.” “He looks a diplomatist.” “Well, he is now nothing but my friend,” said the colonel. “He might have been anything, but he is a peculiarly domestic character, and is devoted to private life.” “You are fortunate in such a friend.” “Well, I am glad to be fortunate in something,” said Colonel Albert. “And are you not fortunate in everything?” “I have not that reputation; but I shall be more than fortunate if I have your kind wishes.” “Those you have,” said Myra, rather eagerly. “My brother taught me, even as a child, to wish nothing but good for you. I wish I knew only what I was to wish for.” “Wish that my plans may succeed,” said Colonel Albert, looking round to her with interest. “I will more than wish,” said Myra; “I will believe that they will succeed, because I think you have resolved to succeed.” “I shall tell Endymion when I see him,” said Colonel Albert, “that his sister is the only person who has read my character.” CHAPTER XXXVI