was no longer surprised. The aristocratic cavalry-officer was
considered the richest and smartest sportsman in Germany.

First, Reimers asked for his smoking-jacket, and then told Gaehler to
help him in unpacking the case of books which had just arrived from
Suez.

Gaehler handed him the volumes, and could not help remarking: "You have
an awful lot of books, sir!"

The lieutenant did not look offended, so he went on: "The count hadn't
so many, and none at all of this sort."

He stole another glance to assure himself that he had not displeased
his master, and then added: "The count only had books about horses, and
a few about women, and the Regulations for cavalry-exercise."

At this Reimers could not help laughing, and his "Hold your tongue,"
did not sound to Gaehler particularly angry.

But if Count Vocking possessed fewer books than the lieutenant, he
apparently surpassed him greatly in other respects.

As Gaehler was arranging the washhand stand, he remarked: "The count had
lots of little boxes and bottles, with real silver tops."

And when he fetched Reimers some sandwiches and a glass of beer for
lunch from the kitchen on the ground floor, he informed his master,
"The count had his own kitchen, and used to drink Burgundy at lunch."

And here another result of his training in the Vocking household came
to light. In a few moments the table was covered with a clean cloth,
with knife, fork, and spoon neatly in place; and it was certainly not
the rough maid down below in the simple kitchen to whom it had occurred
to decorate the dish so prettily with parsley and radishes. The meal
looked far more appetising than usual, and this was Gaehler's work.

"Where did you get the radishes from?" Reimers asked.

"The cook gave them to me, sir," his servant replied.

"So you are at it again, making yourself agreeable?"

This time Gaehler was not in the least confused, but replied frankly, "I
beg your pardon, sir; the cook is very old and very fat, I----"

That evening, in the mess-house, the officers, both his seniors in rank
and those of his own age, vied with each other in pleasant speeches.
But it ended just as it had done a year before; when all had greeted
him, he was left standing alone in the doorway of the reading-room.

His only friend, Guentz, was still in Berlin, and the officers chatted
together in the other rooms of the mess-house, standing in groups which
in almost every case denoted circles of frie