who can delight in these, and
see in them matter for mirth and laughter!"

"Old man," said I, gravely, "has it ever occurred to you that in this
horrible commixture of expression, wherein grief wars with Joy and
sadness with levity, you are like one who, with a noble instrument
before him, should, instead of sweet sounds of harmony, produce wild,
unearthly discords, the jangling bursts of fiend-like voices?"

"The Tintefleck can play indifferently well, your Excellency," said
he, humbly. "I never had any skill that way myself."

Oh, what a _crassa natura_ was here! What a triple wall of dulness
surrounds such dark intelligences!

"And where is the Tintefleck? Why is she not here?" asked I, anxious to
remove the discussion to a ground of more equality.

"She is without, your Excellency. She did not dare to present herself
till your Excellency had desired, and is waiting in the corridor."

"Let her come in," said I, grandly; and I drew my chair to a distant
corner of the room so as to give them a wider area to appear in, while
I could, at the same time, assume that attitude of splendid ease and
graceful protection I have seen a prince accomplish on the stage at
the moment the ballet is about to begin. The door opened, and Vaterchen
entered, leading Tintefleck by the hand.

CHAPTER XXVII. I ATTEMPT TO OVERTHROW SOCIAL PREJUDICES

I was quite right,--Tintefleck's _entree_ was quite dramatic. She
tripped into the room with a short step, nor arrested her ran till she
came close to me, when, with a deep courtesy, she bent down very low,
and then, with a single spring backward, retreated almost to the door
again. She was very pretty,--dark enough to be a Moor, but with a
rich brilliancy of skin never seen amongst that race, for she was a
Calabrian; and as she stood there with her arms crossed before her, and
one leg firmly advanced, and with the foot--a very pretty foot--well
planted, she was like--all the Italian peasants one has seen in the
National Gallery for years back. There was the same look, half shy; the
same elevation of sentiment in the brow, and the same coarseness of the
mouth; plenty of energy, enough and to spare of daring; but no timidity,
no gentleness.

"What is she saying?" asked I of the old man, as I overheard a whisper
pass between them. "Tell me what she has just said to you."

"It is nothing, your Excellency,--she is a fool."

"That she may be, but I insist on hearing what it was she sa