He saw me smile, and hastily added: "My father, you must know, has, if
possible, a still more uncivil opinion than I have of the liveried
nonentities that stop the way in that kind of society; only what he
finds wanting in them, is not what I do.--He is of the old school; a
diplomate of the Empire. He has seen the world in flames, and cannot
forget the demoniac light by which he then saw all things, good and
bad; fair and foul; high and low. Now the world is quiet, and regular
enough; but sleepy, tame, and colorless. At least he thinks so. Still
it is the world, and he who would rule in his generation, must make
himself acquainted with his subjects. He gave me very few maxims to
take away with me, when I came here; but this one, certainly with fifty
variations, 'Read men more than books.'--'When I was at your age,' he
used to say, 'books played a very subordinate part in the world. I have
known many a clever man, who from the time he entered into society
never read a line save the newest novel, or the latest war-bulletin,
and never wrote a syllable, except in love-letters or dispatches. He
had all the more time to act, or, if necessary, to think;--and when is
it _not_ necessary to think? But learning, book-learning! _we_ never
thought of such a thing, and yet, we knew everything, of course.--It
was in the air; and where, now-a-days, you very soon get to the end of
your Latin, our French took us a good way farther.'

"So I considered that as settled, and more than once I have girded up
my loins, to go and read these men, and study them. But after the first
few pages, I generally found out that their titles were the most
important part about them. Either I am a stupid reader; (a 'kind
reader', I know I am _not_!), or else the great world of the present
day really is a most insipid study."

His carriage came to the door, and I went away, for I had often noticed
that it embarrassed him, when any one was present while he was
dressing.

At a later hour, as I chanced to pass the house where the aristocracy
of ---- was to be assembled, I saw him getting out of the carriage; we
exchanged a short look with a shade of irony; and then he went slowly
up the carpetted steps, and I looked after him, while I felt proud of
his knightly bearing, and of the grace of his stalwart figure.

He could be dangerous to womankind, as I had heard from several
sources. They even told a story of a distinguished Englishwoman, who,
after divers