"I heard rather a good story lately about that," said one of the officers; "let's see, what was it? Oh, yes, I remember; If you give your guest German champagne and tell him it is French, he will not be deceived, and will not drink it; but give him French champagne and say it is German he'll drink it right enough. Mind you make a note of that, Winkler." George promised to remember this and to send the invitations as soon as he had spoken to his father about it. "When is your father coming?" George himself did not know, and expected him daily; so did the "Golden Butterflies." They began to get anxious when still the old fellow did not come. What if he was not coming at all? Perhaps it had been the stratagem of George's to speak about his resignation and to try and produce a change of feeling towards him; perhaps the old fellow would not appear for ages, and it had been a trick of George's to make fools of them, to make merry at their expense, and to a certain extent to have his revenge on them. They were getting frightfully anxious about the matter; the joy, therefore, was great when one day at lunch in the Casino George's fellow-officer in his company, Baron von Masemann, informed them: "The manufacturer of trouser buttons has arrived. I saw him last night in a restaurant." "Thank Heaven!" was uttered by all; and then the question was immediately asked, "What's he like?" "Quite impossible. The fellow wears a ready-made tie, unstarched cuffs, and a pair of boots that one can see at a glance were never made in Berlin; and then at dinner the fellow cuts his bread with a knife instead of breaking it." "How awful!" An exclamation of genuine indignation arose from all present. "Do stop," implored a young lieutenant; "remember we have only just had our lunch." "Calm yourselves, my friends," continued the baron; "in spite of all drawbacks the old boy has _one_ great advantage." "And what is that?" "He has a daughter." "What, really! Winkler never told us a word about it." All surrounded the speaker, eager with curiosity. "Is she pretty?" asked one at last, and the others pressed more closely to hear the answer. The baron purposely delayed his answer for some time, then he said: "Pretty? my dear boys, she's much more than that, and although she comes from the provinces she's awfully _chic_. But you must see her figure. I can tell you----" and he smacked his tongue. "Did you get introduced to her?" "Unfortunately, no; I was with friends in the restaurant, and had no opportunity of getting rid of them, but this evening it will be all right. I heard quite by chance that the old trouser-button manufacturer reserved a table for himself for to-day. I shall take good care to be there, and when once I am introduced to the young lady I have no fear about conquering." "In other words, you are trying to catch the gold fish." Baron von Masemann calmly lit a cigarette. "Someone will marry her. Why shouldn't I be that someone?"