it struck me my
father was practically wise, and I looked on Peterborough as an almost
supernatural being. If Ottilia refused to come, at least I should
know my fate. Was I not bound in manly honour to be to some degree
adventurous?

So I reasoned in exclamations, being, to tell truth, tired of seeming to
be what I was not quite, of striving to become what I must have divined
that I never could quite attain to. So my worthier, or ideal, self fell
away from me. I was no longer devoted to be worthy of a woman's
love, but consenting to the plot to entrap a princess. I was somewhat
influenced, too, by the consideration, which I regarded as a glimpse of
practical wisdom, that Prince Ernest was guilty of cynical astuteness in
retaining me as his guest under manifold disadvantages. Personal pride
stood up in arms, and my father's exuberant spirits fanned it. He dwelt
loudly on his services to the prince, and his own importance and my
heirship to mighty riches. He made me almost believe that Prince Ernest
hesitated about rejecting me; nor did it appear altogether foolish to
think so, or why was I at the palace? I had no head for reflections.

My father diverted me by levelling the whole battery of his comic
mind upon Peterborough, who had a heap of manuscript, directed against
heretical German theologians, to pack up for publication in his more
congenial country: how different, he ejaculated, from this nest--this
forest of heresy, where pamphlets and critical essays were issued
without let or hindrance, and, as far as he could see, no general
reprobation of the Press, such as would most undoubtedly, with one
voice, hail any strange opinions in our happy land at home! Whether he
really understood the function my father prepared him for, I cannot say.
The invitation to dine and pass a night at the lake-palace flattered him
immensely.

We went up to the chateau to fetch him.

A look of woe was on Peterborough's countenance when we descended at the
palace portals: he had forgotten his pipe.

'You shall smoke one of the prince's,' my father said. Peterborough
remarked to me,--'We shall have many things to talk over in England.'

'No tobacco allowed on the premises at Riversley, I 'm afraid,' said I.

He sighed, and bade me jocosely to know that he regarded tobacco as just
one of the consolations of exiles and bachelors.

'Peterborough, my good friend, you are a hero!' cried my father. 'He
divorces tobacco to marry!'

'Per