from which long gray cobwebs hung down.

It was late before the baroness broke up the party. The furs were
brought in, the guests were wrapped therein, and the little bells
sounded again cheerily over the snowy scene. But Anton was glad that
Lenore now drove her father, and that he had to take care of the
baroness. Silently he guided the sledge, thinking all the while that
another whom he knew would never have swung to and fro in the mazes of
the mazurka beneath the fluttering cobwebs, and in the house of her
country's foes.

CHAPTER XXX.

Mr. Itzig was now regularly established in business. Whoever visited him
passed through a much-frequented hall, and went up a not entirely clean
staircase, at the head of which was a white door, on which a great plate
revealed the name of "V. Itzig." This door was closed. It had a very
massive China handle, and was altogether much more suggestive and
imposing than Ehrenthal's had been. Passing through this door, the
visitor entered an empty lobby, in which a shrewd youth spent the day as
half porter, half errand-boy, and a spy besides. This youth differed
from the original Itzig only by a species of shabby gentility in his
appearance. He wore his master's old clothes--shining silk waistcoats,
and a coat a little too large for him. He showed, in short, that the new
firm was more advanced in matters of taste and toilette than the in many
respects commonplace establishment of Ehrenthal. The visitor, advancing
through the lobby, was received by Mr. Itzig in one of two small rooms,
of which the first contained little furniture, but two strikingly
handsome lamps--a temporary security for the unpaid interest of a note
of hand. The second was his sleeping apartment; in it were a simple bed,
a long sofa, and a large round mirror, with a broad gilt frame, an
acquisition from the secret stores of the worthy Pinkus. Itzig himself
was marvelously changed, and on dark days, in his dimly-lighted office,
he might really--looked at from a little distance--have almost passed
for a gentleman. His haggard face had filled out, his great freckles had
faded away, and his red hair, through much pomade and skillful brushing,
had grown darker and more manageable. He had still a preference for
black; but his clothes were new now, and fitted him better; for Mr.
Itzig had acquired a taste for externals. He no longer grudged himself
good food--nay, he even allowed himself wine. Yet, insignificant as his