“Never,” said Frank, still gazing with admiration at the old soldier. “Then I may as well tell you that he is the Count Dalton von Auersberg,” said Walstein, lying back to enjoy the youth's amazement. “What! Uncle Stephen? Is that our uncle?” burst out Frank, in delight. “I wish I could call him 'ours,' with all my heart,” said Walstein, laughing. “Any man might well be proud of such a relative.” But Frank never heard or heeded the remark; his whole soul was wrapped up in the contemplation of the old field marshal, on whom he gazed as a devotee might have done upon his saint. “He 's like my father,” muttered Frank, half aloud; “but haughtier-looking, and older. A true Dalton in every feature! How I long to speak to him, to tell him who I am.” “Not here, though, not here!” said Walstein, laying his hand on the youth's arm; for he almost feared lest he should give way to the sudden impulse. “Were you even the Colonel of your regiment, you could not approach him now.” Frank stared with some surprise at a remark which seemed to treat so slightingly the ties of blood and kindred; while Walstein, by no means easy on the score of his companion's prudence, gave the word to the postilion to drive on; and they entered the city of Vienna. CHAPTER XXX. THE THREAT OP “A SLIGHT EMBARRASSMENT.” The Mazzarini Palace was now a proverb for all that was dissipated and extravagant throughout Florence, and in proportion as the society which frequented it was select and few in number, the more absurd were the rumors that went abroad of its dissipations and excesses. In default of a real, good, tangible scandal the world invented a thousand shadowy little slanders, that, if not as deadly to reputation at once, were just as certain to kill character in the long run. Sir Stafford's gout, of which he was confined to his bed or a sofa, was pronounced the lingering agonies of a broken heart. “My Lady's” late dinners were orgies where every licentiousness held sway. George was a reckless gambler, who had already jeopardized all the wealth of his family; and, as for Kate, she was at the mercy of that amiable temperament of the human mind which always believes the worst, and as constantly draws the darkest inference from its belief.