SEBENBERG CASTLE, November 28, 1882. We are the best of friends again. Our reconciliation was effected by means of Rattler and the little Chinese boy. You must know, Nesti, that ever since the count’s arrival papa has been more than odd. He who on my sixth birthday gave me my first pony, and allowed me to have as many dogs as I chose, is now forever frowning and saying, “Can’t you find anything better to talk about than horses?” or “Where on earth can the child have got this mania for dogs?” while mamma, as she lights a fresh cigar, remarks, “Muschi must always go to extremes.” That day it was her ninth since lunch. Sometimes I amuse myself by counting how many she gets through in a day. The end of it was that when papa heard that my English terrier had had pups, he declared that he would throw every man Jack of them out of the window if he caught any of them about the castle. So nothing remained for me but to ensconce the whole family party in the library. Not a soul goes in there, and the pups are under my eye. They are such hungry little fellows, and are as comfortable as possible in their basket under the table by the fire, cozily hidden by the table cover, that hangs down to the ground. Three times a day I go to see the mother and take her some milk. To-day their was great joy; two of the pups had opened their eyes. I congratulated their mamma, and said, “Don’t you think you might move about a little now, you lazy thing! Get up, get up!” But she, giving me a limp paw, sets up barking, and I, in an agony of fear, take hold of her nose and hold it tightly, with a threatening “Quiet, Rattler, or you will lose your pups!” At the same moment I hear a laughing “Good-morning” behind me. You know the big armchair that stands in the window recess, its back turned to the fireplace? With one knee upon it, his arms resting upon the back, as if he were in an opera box, is the count. “Bother take you, Mr. Detective!” I think to myself; and the following conversation ensues: _I._ When did you come in? _He._ Oh, I was here long before you came. _I._ Indeed! And pray what were you doing? _He._ Reading. _I._ Reading? You need not think I am such a little greenhorn as to believe that. _He._ Your doubts surprise me! Why should I not have been reading? _I._ On such a day, when you might have been following the hounds? You may tell that to the marines. _He_ (springing from his post of vantage, and coming toward me with a forbidding expression on his face). Your opinion of the pleasure to be derived from books seems to be but small? _I._ Were it a question of life or death with you, my opinion would remain the same. _He_ (with expression still more forbidding). I am much obliged! I value my life too highly to stake it in such a cause. _I._ I assure you, on my honor, you would not be risking much.