and frankness? Would it not be in better
taste to defer it till the servants had left the room? To expose him to
his household seemed scarcely fair.

These were all knotty points, and I revolved them long and carefully, as
I came back to my hotel, through the same silent street.

CHAPTER XIV. SHAMEFUL NEGLECT OF A PUBLIC SERVANT.

"Don't keep a place for me at the _table d'hote_ to-day, Kramm," said I,
in an easy carelessness; "I dine with his Excellency. I could n't well
get off the first day, but tomorrow I promise you to pronounce upon your
good cheer."

I suppose I am not the first man who has derived consequence from the
invitation it had cost him misery to accept. How many in this world
of snobbery have felt that the one sole recompense for long nights of
_ennui_ was the fact that their names figured amongst the distinguished
guests in the next day's "Post"?

"It is not a grand dinner to-day, is it?" asked Kramm.

"No, no, merely a family party; we are very old chums, and have much to
talk over."

"You will then go in plain black, and with nothing but your
'decorations.'"

"I will wear none," said I, "none; not even a ribbon." And I turned away
to hide the shame and mortification his suggestion had provoked.

Punctually at six o'clock I arrived at the legation; four powdered
footmen were in the hall, and a decent-looking personage in black
preceded me up the stairs, and opened the double doors into the
drawing-room, without, however, announcing me, or paying the slightest
attention to my mention of "Mr. Pottinger."

Laying down his newspaper as I entered, his Excellency came forward with
his hand out, and though it was the least imaginable touch, and his bow
was grandly ceremonious, his smile was courteous and his manner bland.

"Charmed to find you know the merit of punctuality," said he. "To the
untravelled English, six means seven, or even later. You may serve
dinner, Robins. Strange weather we are having," continued he, turning to
me; "cold, raw, and uncongenial."

We talked "barometer" till, the door opening, the _maitre d'hotel_
announced, "His Excellency is served;" a rather unpolite mode, I
thought, of ignoring his company, and which was even more strongly
impressed by the fact that he walked in first, leaving me to follow.

At the table a third "cover" was just being speedily removed as we
entered, a fact that smote at my heart like a blow. The dinner began,
and went on with little