onversation to the _coterie_;
the end and aim of his being seems to be perfectly accomplished, and
all interest for him as readily transferred to his successor, who or
whatever he may be, as though his existence had been as unreal as the
spectre of a magic lantern.

Little did I suppose when, in the full blaze of my popularity, that to
such an ordinance of fashion alone I was indebted for the proud eminence
I occupied. I was not long destined to enjoy the deception.

It chanced that about three months after my arrival in Dresden,
circumstances required my absence from the city for a few days. The
occasion which called me detained me beyond the time I had calculated
on, and it was not till after a fortnight I reached my home. I had
travelled that day from sunrise till late in the evening, being anxious,
if possible, to redeem a promise I had made to my friend and patron,
Count Lowenstein, to be present at a _fete_ in honour of his sister's
birthday. The weather had been unusually hot and sultry, even for the
season; and although I felt much fatigued and jaded, I lost not a moment
on my arrival to dress for the _fete_, over which, calculating on my
late career, I deemed my absence would throw a gloom. Besides that, I
longed once more to drink of that Circean cup of flattery, for which
my short absence from the city had given me new zest; and it was with
a high-beating heart and fevered brain I hung upon my breast the many
crosses and decorations I had been gifted with in my hours of brilliant
success.

Lights gleamed brightly from the ample windows of the Lowenstein palace.
Numerous equipages stood at the portico. I followed the chasseur up
the spacious marble steps which led to the ante-chamber. I stopped one
moment before a large mirror, and almost startled at the brilliancy of
my dress, which, a present from my sovereign, I now wore for the first
time. With a high-swelling heart and bounding step--for all fatigue
was long since forgotten--I approached the door; and oh! the throb with
which I heard my name now, for the first time, announced with the
title of "Baron," which his Majesty had conferred upon me the day of my
departure! That name, which alone had, talisman-like, opened for me the
doors of all who were illustrious and exalted in rank--that name, which
heard, silenced the hum of voices, to break forth the moment after in
accents of praise and welcome! Again it rung through the crowded salon,
and I stood with