d to steer altogether clear of that ironical
bent of his, though, which is especially strong in all that concerns
the fairer sex," said Lothair. "However, I make no attack on him upon
that score."

"Merely a pinch of salt," said Ottmar, "to season rather meagre fare.
For the fact is, I felt it as I read the story--it's too prosaic--too
much about everyday matters."

"As Theodore approves of naming the scene of action," said Cyprian; "as
Ottmar thinks his subject-matter over-prosaic; and if Lothair will
allow me a pinch of irony now and then, I'll read you a story which
suggested itself to me when I was living in Dantzic."

He read:--

"THE ARTUS HOF.

"Doubtless, kind reader, you have often heard a great deal about the
fine old business town of Dantzic. And, probably, you know, from
reading of them, all about the 'lions' of the place. But I should be
better pleased could I think that you had been there, in person, at
some time or other, and had actually seen, with your own eyes, the
wonderful hall into which I fain would take you; I mean the 'Artus
Hof.'

"In the mid-day hours, a throng of business men, of all nations and
conditions, goes surging up and down in it, with a confused uproar of
voices which deafens the ear. But, no doubt, the time when--if you were
in Dantzic--you would best like to go into it would be after the
exchange hours are over, when the business men are gone to their
mid-day meal, and only a few rare ones now and then cross the hall at
intervals with preoccupied faces--there is a passage through it,
leading from one street to another--for then a magic half-light comes
stealing through the dim, ancient windows, and all the curious frescoes
and carvings which ornament the walls seem to come to life, and begin
to move. Stags with great antlers, and other strange animals, gaze down
at you with gleaming eyes, so that you don't half care to look at them.
And the more the light fades, the more awe-inspiring grows the marble
statue of the king in the centre of the hall. The large picture of the
Virtues and the Vices (whose names are written beside them) loses a
good deal of its moral effect: for the Virtues soar more irrecognizably
aloft, half hidden in grey clouds; and the Vices--beautiful women in
shining raiment--come forward enticingly, and seem to be trying to lure
you from the path of duty, whispering to you in accents sweet and low.
Wherefore, you turn from them