This might be true, for Prof. Poppendorf was our star boarder. He was not supposed to be rich, but his title of Professor and his ancient intimacy with Bismarck, gave him a prestige among us all. When he first came Mrs. Wyman tried her blandishments upon him, but with indifferent success. Not that the grizzled veteran was too old for the tender passion, as we were soon to learn, but because he did not appreciate the coquettish ways of the widow, whom he considered of too light calibre for his taste. "Don't you think the Professor very homely?" asked Mrs. Wyman, in a confidential whisper. "He certainly is not handsome," I answered. "Neither is Bismarck." "True, but he is a great man." "We should respect him on account of his learning--probably much more so than the Count whom we are expecting." "That may be. We don't expect noblemen to be learned," said the widow, disdainfully. Immediately after breakfast she began to sound Mrs. Gray about the Count. "When did he apply for board?" she asked. "Yesterday afternoon about four o'clock." "Had he heard of you? What led him here?" "I think he saw the sign I had out." "I should have supposed he would prefer a hotel." "He's staying at a hotel now." "Did he say at what hotel? Was it the Fifth Avenue?" "He did not say. He will move here early this afternoon." "And what room will he have?" "The back room on the third floor--the one Mr. Bates had." "I should hardly think that room would satisfy a nobleman." "Why not? Is it not clean and neat?" "Undoubtedly, dear Mrs. Gray, but you must admit that it is not stylish, and it is small." "It is of the same size as the Professor's." "Ah, the Professor! He is not a man of elegant tastes. I once looked into his room. It smells so strong of tobacco, I could not stay in there ten minutes without feeling sick." "I think the Count smokes." "Perhaps he does, but he wouldn't smoke a dirty clay pipe. I can imagine him with a dainty cigarette between his closed lips. But, Mrs. Gray, I am going to ask you a great favor." "What is it?" "Let me sit beside the Count. I wish to make his acquaintance. He will be reserved and silent with most of the boarders. I will try to make him feel at home." "I thought you wished to sit beside Dr. Fenwick." "So I did, but he and I are friends, and he won't mind my changing my seat." When I came to supper that evening I was not wholly surprised to find myself removed to the opposite side of the table, but this I did not regret when I found that I was now next neighbor to the Disagreeable Woman. In my old seat there was a slender young man of middle height, with dark eyes and hair. Mrs. Wyman had already established herself in confidential relations with him, and was conversing with him in a low tone. "I suppose that is the Count," I remarked. "At any rate he calls himself so. He has deprived you of your seat." "Not only that but Mrs. Wyman has transferred her attentions to him." "Doubtless to your regret?"