"Do you think so? Well, I am glad of it. But that does not prevent me from thinking the man genteel; and, what is probably of still greater value in your eyes, he has not only the air of a well-bred man about him, as we find it in any nation on earth, but he has the particular type of the nobility of this region." "Oh, I thought typhus was a disease!" "Typus, _mon cher_, not typhus. Type means, when several people have the same nose, boots, eyes, and gloves. Now, look for yourself, if all that does not agree in Doctor Stein; for instance, in comparison with yourself, for surely you have everything that is characteristic in our nobility most highly developed. He is tall and well made, like yourself, only half a head taller, and a few inches broader in the shoulders. He has the same light brown, curly hair, only you have your hair curled by the hair-dresser, and his curls naturally. He has blue eyes like yourself, and you must admit that his eyes are large and expressive." "Ah, yes--I admit, he is a deuced handsome fellow," said the dandy, angrily, casting a sidelong glance at the object of his forced admiration. "Well, and as to his manners," continued Oldenburg, "I would give one of my farms if I could move with the same dignity and the same gracefulness." "That is strong--why?" "Because the women love dearly to see such a small foot, a well-shaped leg, and so forth. Such pretty dolls like the doctor are born Alexanders; they fly from one conquest to another, and generally die young at Babylon." "Ah, baron, what a man you would be if you were not so furiously learned." "Do you think so? May be! I have inherited that disease. It was my mother's fault; she used to read the racing almanac and many a novel besides. That explains the bad features in my character." "Gentlemen, would you like to try my new pistols?" asked their host, who came up just then. "I thought there would be dancing?" said Cloten. "After dinner. You are coming, Oldenburg?" "Of course. You know my motto: _Aux armes, citoyens._" CHAPTER XXIII.