onored if the distinguished American Herr would give
me a visit," said the stranger gravely, as he gazed at Hoffman with an
intensity which recalled the previous scrutiny of the Police Inspector,
"and I would be charmed if he would avail himself of my poor skill to
transmit his picturesque features to my unique collection."

Hoffman returned a polite evasion to this invitation, although he was
conscious of being struck with this second examination of his face, and
the allusion to his personality.

The next morning the porter met him with a mysterious air. The Herr
would still like to see the Schloss? Hoffman, who had quite forgotten
his adventure in the park, looked vacant. JA WOHL--the Hof authorities
had no doubt heard of his visit and had intimated to the hotel
proprietor that he might have permission to visit the model farm and
dairy. As the American still looked indifferent the porter pointed out
with some importance that it was a Ducal courtesy not to be lightly
treated; that few, indeed, of the burghers themselves had ever been
admitted to this eccentric whim of the late Grand Duchess. He would, of
course, be silent about it; the Court would not like it known that they
had made an exception to their rules in favor of a foreigner; he would
enter quickly and boldly alone. There would be a housekeeper or a
dairymaid to show him over the place.

More amused at this important mystery over what he, as an American, was
inclined to classify as a "free pass" to a somewhat heavy "side show,"
he gravely accepted the permission, and the next morning after breakfast
set out to visit the model farm and dairy. Dismissing his driver, as
he had been instructed, Hoffman entered the gateway with a mingling of
expectancy and a certain amusement over the "boldness" which the
porter had suggested should characterize his entrance. Before him was
a beautifully kept lane bordered by arbored and trellised roses, which
seemed to sink into the distance. He was instinctively following it when
he became aware that he was mysteriously accompanied by a man in the
livery of a chasseur, who was walking among the trees almost abreast
of him, keeping pace with his step, and after the first introductory
military salute preserving a ceremonious silence. There was something
so ludicrous in this solemn procession toward a peaceful, rural industry
that by the time they had reached the bottom of the lane the American
had quite recovered his good humor.