what he considered a rational manner, he preferred
taking a lonely walk, yielding to the play of his fancy, or would stay
at home, amusing himself with a book, or sometimes writing something
himself.

He was young, independent, good-looking, well off, pleasant in manners,
so of course he was very popular, and his success with the other sex
was distinguished. But besides all this, there appeared to be a special
lucky star watching over everything he undertook. People talked of many
love-affairs, comprising risky adventures of which he had been the
hero, which, though certain to have proved disastrous to most men, he
had got out of with marvellous ease and facility. Old gentlemen who
knew him would speak, particularly, of the affair of a certain watch,
which had happened in his very early days. It chanced, before he came
to his majority, that, on a journey, he unexpectedly found himself in
such a strait for money that, to get on at all, he had to sell his
watch, a beautiful gold one set with brilliants. Seeing no alternative,
he had made up his mind to part with it much under its value; but
it so happened that, in the hotel where he was living, there was a
young prince who was on the look-out for just such a watch; so
that he got more for it than it was worth. Rather more than a year
afterwards--having come to his majority in the meantime--he read in the
newspaper, at another place where he was, that a watch was going to be
raffled. He took a ticket, costing only a trifle, and won the very
watch set in brilliants which he had sold. Soon afterwards, he swopped
this watch away for a valuable ring. Presently, having been for a time
in the service of the Prince of G----, as he was leaving, the Prince
gave him, as a souvenir, the self-same watch which he had twice got rid
of--and a handsome chain into the bargain.

Then, people went on to talk about Siegfried's fancy of never touching
a card--which, considering his extraordinary luck, he ought to be just
the man to do; and everybody came to the conclusion that, in spite of
all his delightful qualities, the Baron was a screw; far too canny to
risk a little of his cash. That his whole conduct completely excluded
the idea of his being avaricious, didn't matter. People are always
anxious, and delighted to fasten an objectionable "but" on to a man of
gifts, and to find out this "but" wherever they can, be it only in
their own imaginations. So everybody was quite satisfied with thi