"One day I received an invitation to dinner from a family to whom I had brought letters of introduction. The company was very numerous; I took a young lady of the house in to dinner, a pretty, fair-haired girl, whose merry ways attracted me exclusively during the first part of the dinner. But when the usual topics which are apt to be discussed with young ladies fresh from school were nearly exhausted, I found my attention engaged by a gentleman who sat opposite me. He was a small, elderly man, with a massive brow, as if cut in granite, from beneath which two clever eyes shone forth brightly. The somewhat full cheeks betrayed a fondness for good living, which was not belied by the earnestness with which the man did honor to the gifts of Ceres and Bacchus. But the lines around the firm, well-shaped mouth were enigmatical: sensuality, wit, humor, and melancholy demons and genii--all seemed to dwell there. "The conversation at our part of the table soon became general, and I could venture to join in without presumption. They discussed art, literature, and politics. Everywhere the strange man seemed to be perfectly at home; everywhere he surprised us by clever views, startling antitheses, and odd paradoxes. It seemed to give him special pleasure to throw in a little spark of purgatory-fire, and then to see how the tiny flames from below tickled the noses of the good people. Thus he would suddenly assert that revolutions had never done any good to mankind, and never would benefit us. You know my views on this point, which have often been the subject of our discussions. I accepted the challenge; I grew warm in speaking of my pet theme, and all the warmer as my adversary tried hard to confuse me by all kinds of odd questions. I forgot everything around me; I became pathetic, satiric--I felt that I said some good things, at least that I had never in my life spoken as well. At a later day I learnt to my humiliation that the good man had highly enjoyed the sham fight,--for such it was to him,--but then I only noticed that he gave up the combat and listened to what I said, bending his large head a little upon his right shoulder, smiling at my energy out of his large bright eyes beneath the bushy eyebrows, and sipping one glass of hock after the other. Soon afterwards we left the table. As I took my lady back to the room where tea was served, I asked her: 'And who was the gentleman with whom I carried on a conversation, which I fear was very dull to you?' "'What! you do not know Professor Berger?' the little lady asked, quite amazed. "'That was Professor Berger?' "'Certainly; shall I introduce you?' "'For heaven's sake, no!' I cried, with genuine terror. 'Oh me! what a misfortune!'" "'Why, what is the matter?' asked the pretty girl. 'What is the matter?'