"That you're a Cato or a Plato, whichever you prefer. Meantime--even without having felt your pulse--I see by your whole appearance, that you're on the direct road to remain so no longer. My best blessing on your conversion, old boy, and better luck than has fallen to me." "To you?" "Well, you may suppose that during my visit yesterday, I made every effort to appear not only the experienced physician, but also the profound connoisseur in female hearts and female beauty. _Oleum et operam_, my dear fellow! A statue, I tell you, a marble Sphinx would have been more moved by my engaging manners. This young glacier in Brussels lace remained as unapproachable as on the first evening, and will you believe it: even my secret ally, Jean the Little, who ought to be grateful--is a _rocher de bronze_ in everything that concerns his mistress. The maid, my last hope, did not appear. So I'm just as wise to-day as I was before, or rather still more stupid, for all my experience and psychology have not helped me to understand our solitary beauty, or make up my mind whether she belongs to the great world, the _demi monde_, or no world at all." "There can be no lack of people who will help you on the trail." "Perhaps others know more," said the doctor, as he paused and cleaned his spectacles. "Meantime, as I told you just now: I give her up. I hereby relinquish her to you for the second time and forever, and swear by yonder turrets, that it does not even cost me an effort. She's an amphibious creature, a beautiful, faultless young serpent, just fit to drive men mad. I prefer warm, red blood. I've discovered some one--curiously enough in your house--a soubrette, who takes lessons from your piano-playing young lady--not by any means so exquisite or princess like as our sphinx, but to make amends--you know 'we don't cry for the moon' unless we are incorrigible idealists and star gazers, like certain people." He laughingly shook hands with Edwin and entered the house before which his carriage was waiting. CHAPTER II.