“My dear, you are alarming yourself unnecessarily,” cried the commissioner, who pitied the distress visible, at least to his eyes, in her countenance; or who feared, perhaps, a renewal of reproaches for his own want of address, “quite unnecessarily, believe me. I have had a great deal of conversation with Count Altenberg since I spoke of him to you last, and I am confirmed in my opinion that he merely feels the curiosity natural to an enlightened traveller to become acquainted with Mr. Percy, a man who has been described to him as a person of abilities. And he wants to thank him in the name of his countrymen, who were assisted, you know I told you, by the Percys, at the time of the shipwreck. You will see, my dear, that the ladies of the family will be nothing to him.” Mrs. Falconer sighed, and bit her lips. “In half an hour’s conversation, I would engage to find out the ruling passion of any man, young or old. Now, remember I tell you, Mrs. Falconer, Count Altenberg’s ruling passion is ambition.” “Ruling passion!” repeated Mrs. Falconer; “one of your book-words, and book-notions, that are always misleading you in practice. Ruling passion!--Metaphysical nonsense! As if men were such consistent creatures as to be ruled regularly by one passion--when often ten different passions pull a man, even before your face, ten different ways, and one cannot tell one hour what will be the ruling passion of the next. Tell me the reigning fashion, and I will tell you the ruling passion!--Luckily,” continued Mrs. Falconer, after a pause of deep consideration, “Georgiana is very fashionable--one of the most fashionable young women in England, as the count might have seen when he was in London. But then, on the other hand, whether he is judge enough of English manners--Georgiana must be well dressed--and I know the Count’s taste in dress; I have made myself mistress of that--commissioner, I must trouble you for some money.” “Mrs. Falconer, I have no money; and if I had,” said the commissioner, who always lost his temper when that subject was touched upon, “if I had, I would not give it to you to throw away upon such a losing game--a nonsensical speculation! Georgiana has not the least chance, nor has any other English woman, were she as handsome as Venus and dressed in bank notes--why, Mrs. Falconer, since you put me in a passion, I must tell you a secret.” But checking himself, Mr. Falconer stood for a moment silent, and went on with “Count Altenberg has made up his quarrel with the hereditary prince, and I have it from undoubted authority, that he is to be the prince’s prime minister when he comes to the throne; and the present prince, you know, as Cunningham says, is so infirm and asthmatic, that he may be carried off at any moment.” “Very well--very likely--I am glad of it,” said Mrs. Falconer: “but where’s the secret?”