It was not without an effort that I recognized my friend the Count in his change of costume; for, though good-looking and even handsome before, he might now strike the beholder with admiration. He wore a blue military pelisse, richly braided with gold, and fastened with large Brandenburg buttons. It was sufficiently open in front to display a vest of scarlet cloth, all slashed with gold. His trousers were black, with a broad gold band along the sides, while a richly embossed belt of Russia leather supported a sabre of most costly and gorgeous make. He wore several handsome decorations, and around the throat, by a broad blue ribbon, a splendid diamond cross, with the letters “P. C.” in the centre. “I have not dressed for dinner,” said he, as I entered, “since we must take a stroll under the linden-trees when it grows cool, and have our cigar there. After that, we 'll look in at the opera; and if not very attractive, I 'll present you at one or two houses where they receive of an evening, and where, when you come again, you will be always welcome.” Since I had gone so far, I resolved to abide by all his arrangements, and suffer him to dispose of my time just as he pleased. Our dinner was excellent. The Count had bestowed pains in ordering it, and all was of that perfection in cookery for which Hamburg was, and is, so justly famed. Nor was the wine inferior to the rest of the entertainment. Of this the Count appeared to be a connoisseur, and pressed me to taste a dozen different kinds, the very names of which were unknown to me. His conversation, too, was so amusing, so full of strange incidents and adventures, such curious anecdotes, such shrewd remarks, that I was by no means impatient to rise from table. “I see,” said he, at last, “we are too late for the opera. Hanserlist's reception is also nearly over by this time. Shall we just drop in, then, at Madame von Geysiger's? It is the latest house here, and every one goes there to finish the evening.” “They are all strangers to me,” I replied, “and I am entirely under your orders.” “Then Madame von Geysiger's be it,” said he, rising. As we went along, he told me that the lady to whose house we were going had been, some thirty-five or forty years ago, the great prima donna of Europe. She was also the most celebrated beauty of her time; and by these combined attractions had so captivated a rich merchant of Hamburg that he married her, bequeathing to her on his death-bed the largest fortune of that wealthy city. “They count it by millions and tens of millions,” said he; “but what matter to us?--at least to me?--for I have been refused by her some half-dozen times; and indeed now am under the heaviest recognizance never to repeat my proposal. If you, however, should like to adventure--” “Oh, excuse me,” said I, laughing. “Not even all the marcobrunner and champagne I have been drinking could give hardihood for such a piece of impudence.”