At the grated gate of the park Doctor Joannes received us. He was dressed with much more care than on the preceding evening, for, although he still wore the same common black dress, and his hair hung in simple curls on either side of his pale face; in his lace jabot sparkled a diamond of the first water; his fingers were loaded with costly rings, and upon his light cane of bamboo shone in all its native splendor, a ruby as large as a billiard-ball. He did not appear to notice me, but bowed humbly to the ladies, and begged their forgiveness for intruding himself without an invitation; being driven to San Solario, as he said, by the desire to know whether they were satisfied with the Viennese chariot and Andalusian ponies. His whole manner expressed that tender sensibility which is in such favor with the ladies of the present day. They appeared delighted to see him. The lovely princess, sweet innocence, began, in her winning way, to admire the ornaments with which the doctor was adorned. She admired the diamonds and the rings; but when she saw the ruby, she broke out in most musical laughter, and declared that it must have belonged to Gulliver’s Ghlumdalclitch, for none but the queen of the giants could wear such a stone. “O, gracious princess,” said I, casting a scornful glance upon Doctor Joannes, “these stones are never worn by ladies. They are marks of distinction among the Chinese mandarins; and I do not think such a one is to be found anywhere but in the imperial treasury at Peking.” The doctor colored slightly, and his glance threatened me with revenge and ruin. But he soon turned quietly to the ladies, smiled himself at the great size of the stone, and confessed that it was this very peculiarity which had induced him to purchase it of a mandarin, who had left Rio Janeiro this very afternoon. I was obliged to acknowledge that he had extricated himself from the difficulty well, and to leave him in peace for the present. It was a magnificent afternoon, and the villa San Solario was a place of perfect enchantment. All the public gardens and squares in Gelnhaus and Heidelberg, were as common linen to cashmere, compared with San Solario. In Gelnhaus, if I chanced to hear a nightingale chirp, or a cricket sing, I fell immediately into a poetical ecstasy; and here there was a whole orchestra of woodland musicians performing overtures and symphonies on the boughs of the cedars and palms, while gorgeous birds were flitting about like animated flowers.