the expression of his noble feelings, and whose grace
was only the impulse of his rich and costly blood. Baron de Berghem was
too attentive, and too deferential. He smiled and bowed too much.
He made no allusion to the last night's scene, nor did his tutored
companion, but spoke of different and lighter subjects, in a manner
which at once proved his experience of society, the liveliness of his
talents, and the cultivation of his taste. He told many stories, all
short and poignant, and always about princes and princesses. Whatever
was broached, he always had his _apropos_ of Vienna, and altogether
seemed an experienced, mild, tolerant man of the world, not bigoted to
any particular opinions upon any subject, but of a truly liberal and
philosophic mind.

When they had sat chatting for half-an-hour, the Baron developed the
object of his visit, which was to endeavour to obtain the pleasure of
his Grace's company at dinner, to taste some wild boar and try some
tokay. The Duke, who longed again for action, accepted the invitation;
and then they parted.

Our hero was quite surprised at the feverish anxiety with which he
awaited the hour of union. He thought that seven o'clock would never
come. He had no appetite at breakfast, and after that he rode, but
luncheon was a blank. In the midst of the operation, he found himself
in a brown study, calculating chances. All day long his imagination had
been playing hazard, or _rouge et noir_. Once he thought that he had
discovered an infallible way of winning at the latter. On the long run,
he was convinced it must answer, and he panted to prove it.

Seven o'clock at last arrived, and he departed to Brunswick Terrace.
There was a brilliant party to meet him: the same set as last night,
but select. He was faint, and did justice to the _cuisine_ of his host,
which was indeed remarkable. When we are drinking a man's good wine, it
is difficult to dislike him. Prejudice decreases with every draught.
His Grace began to think the Baron as good-hearted as agreeable. He was
grateful for the continued attentions of old Castlefort, who, he now
found out, had been very well acquainted with his father, and once even
made a trip to Spa with him. Lord Dice he could not manage to endure,
though that worthy was, for him, remarkably courteous, and grinned with
his parchment face, like a good-humoured ghoul. Temple Grace and the
Duke became almost intimate. There was an amiable candour in that
gentlem