n, who was drinking Rhine-wine before noon, and turning his back
upon all the castles, towers, and ruins, which reflected their crumbling
peaks in the water; upon the handsome young students who came with
us from Bonn, with their national colors in their caps, with their
picturesque looks, their yellow ringlets, their budding moustaches, and
with cuts upon almost every one of their noses, obtained in duels at the
university: most picturesque are these young fellows, indeed--but ah,
why need they have such black hands?

Near us is a type, too: a man who adorns his own tale, and points his
own moral. "Yonder, in his carriage, sits the Count de Reineck, who
won't travel without that dismal old chariot, though it is shabby,
costly, and clumsy, and though the wicked red republicans come and smoke
under his very nose. Yes, Miss Fanny, it is the lusty young Germany,
pulling the nose of the worn-out old world."

"Law, what DO you mean, Mr. Titmarsh?" cries the dear Fanny.

"And here comes Mademoiselle de Reineck, with her companion. You see she
is wearing out one of the faded silk gowns which she has spoiled at the
Residenz during the season: for the Reinecks are economical, though they
are proud; and forced, like many other insolvent grandees, to do and to
wear shabby things.

"It is very kind of the young countess to call her companion 'Louise,'
and to let Louise call her 'Laure;' but if faces may be trusted,--and we
can read in one countenance conceit and tyranny; deceit and slyness in
another,--dear Louise has to suffer some hard raps from dear Laure: and,
to judge from her dress, I don't think poor Louise has her salary paid
very regularly.

"What a comfort it is to live in a country where there is neither
insolence nor bankruptcy among the great folks, nor cringing, nor
flattery among the small. Isn't it, Miss Fanny?"

Miss Fanny says, that she can't understand whether I am joking
or serious; and her mamma calls her away to look at the ruins of
Wigginstein. Everybody looks at Wigginstein. You are told in Murray to
look at Wigginstein.

Lankin, who has been standing by, with a grin every now and then upon
his sardonic countenance, comes up and says, "Titmarsh, how can you be
so impertinent?"

"Impertinent! as how?"

"The girl must understand what you mean; and you shouldn't laugh at her
own mother to her. Did you ever see anything like the way in which that
horrible woman is following the young lord about?"