eated.

I own I was disappointed with the Count, his hair was so greasy, and
his hands so dirty, and his general get-up so uncared for; but Mrs O'D.
talked away with him very pleasantly, and he replied in his own broken
English, making little grimaces and smiles and gestures, and some very
tender glances, do duty where his parts of speech failed him. In fact, I
watched him as a sort of psychological phenomenon, and I arrived at the
conclusion that this friend of Gioberti's was a very clever artist.

All was speedily settled for the lessons--hour, terms, and mode of
instruction. It was to be entirely conversational, with a little
theme-writing, no getting by heart, no irregular verbs, no declensions,
no genders. I did beg hard for a little grammar, but he wouldn't hear of
it. It was against his "system," and so I gave in.

We began the next day, but the Count ignored me altogether, directing
almost all his attentions to Mrs O'D.; and as I had already some small
knowledge of the elementary part of the language, I was just as well
pleased that she should come up, as it were, to my level. From this
cause I often walked off before the lesson was over, and sometimes,
indeed, I skulked it altogether, finding the system, as well as
Gioberti's friend, to be an unconscionable bore. Mrs O'D., on the
contrary, displayed an industry I never believed her to possess, and
would pass whole evenings over her exercises, which often covered
several sheets of letter-paper.

We had now been about five weeks in Turin, when my brother wrote to
request I would come back as speedily as I could, that a case in which
I held a brief was high in the cause-list, and would be tried very early
in the session. I own I was not sorry at the recall. I detested the
dreary life I was leading. I hated Turin and its bad feeding and bad
theatres, its rough wines and its rougher inhabitants.

"Did you tell the Count we are off on Saturday?" asked I of Mrs O'D.

"Yes," said she, dryly.

"I suppose he's inconsolable," said I, with a sneer.

"He's very sorry we're going, if you mean that, Mr O'Dowd; and so am I
too."

"Well, so am not I; and you may call me a Dutchman if you catch me here
again."

"The Count hopes you will permit him to see you. He asked this morning
whether he might call on you about four o'clock."

"Yes, I'll see him with sincere pleasure for once," I cried; "since it
is to say good-bye to him."

I was in my dressing-room, packing