“Humph!” said the Prince, slowly; “I do not think it exactly requires a ghost to tell us that Mr. Beckendorff is not in the habit of going to court. I do not know how he is accustomed to conduct himself when he is honoured by a visit from the Grand Duke; but I am quite sure that, as regards his treatment of myself, to say the least, the incognito is well observed.” “Mr. von Philipson,” said the gentleman of whom they were speaking, putting his head in at the window, “you shall see my blue passion-flower. We will take a walk round the garden.” The Prince gave Vivian a look which seemed to suppose they must go, and accordingly they stepped into the garden. “You do not see my garden in its glory,” said Mr. Beckendorff, stopping before the bow window of the library. “This spot is my strong point; had you been here earlier in the year, you might have admired with me my invaluable crescents of tulips; such colours! such brilliancy! so defined! And last year I had three king-tulips; their elegantly-formed, creamy cups I have never seen equalled. And then my double variegated ranunculuses; my hyacinths of fifty bells, in every tint, single and double; and my favourite stands of auriculas, so large and powdered that the colour of the velvet leaves was scarcely discoverable! The blue passion-flower is, however, now beautiful. You see that summer-house, sir,” continued he, turning to Vivian; “the top is my observatory. You will sleep in that pavilion to-night, so you had better take notice how the walk winds.” The passion-flower was trained against the summer-house in question. “There,” said Mr. Beckendorff; and he stood admiring with outstretched arms; “the latter days of its beauty, for the autumn frosts will soon stop its flower. Pray, Mr. von Philipson, are you a botanist?” “Why,” said the Prince, “I am a great admirer of flowers, but I cannot exactly say that--” “Ah! no botanist. The flower of this beautiful plant continues only one day, but there is a constant succession from July to the end of the autumn; and if this fine weather continue--Pray, sir, how is the wind?” “I really cannot say,” said the Prince; “but I think the wind is either--” “Do you know, sir?” continued Beckendorff to Vivian. “I think, sir, that it is--” “Westerly. Well! If this weather continue, the succession may still last another month. You will be interested to know, Mr. von Philipson, that the flower comes out at the same joint with the leaf, on a peduncle nearly three inches long; round the centre of it are two radiating crowns; look, look, sir! the inner inclining towards the centre column; now examine this well, and I will be with you in a moment.” So saying, Mr. Beckendorff, running down the walk, jumped over the railing, and in a moment was coursing across the lawn, towards the river, in a chase after a dragon-fly.