man in spectacles and I, up to then mute, meek, and motionless in
our grey slippers, started simultaneously. I looked at him cautiously
out of the corners of my eyes, and found to my confusion that he was
looking at me cautiously out of the corners of his. In another moment
the Harvey-Brownes stood before us.

After one slight look of faintest surprise at my companion the pleasant
Ambrose greeted me as though I were an old friend; and then bowing with
a politeness acquired during his long stay in the Fatherland to the
person he supposed was my husband, introduced himself in German fashion
by mentioning his name, and observed that he was exceedingly pleased to
make his acquaintance. _'Es freut mich sehr Ihre Bekanntschaft zu
machen,'_ said the pleasant Ambrose.

_'Gleichfalls, gleichfalls,'_ murmured the man in spectacles, bowing
repeatedly, and obviously astonished. To the bishop's wife he also made
rapid and bewildered bows until he saw she was gazing over his head, and
then he stopped. She had recognised my presence by the merest shadow of
a nod, which I returned with an indifference that was icy; but, oddly
enough, what offended me more than her nod was the glance she had
bestowed on the man in spectacles before she began to gaze over his
head. He certainly did not belong to me, and yet I was offended. This
seemed to me so subtle that it set me off pondering.

'The public is not allowed to enter the princely apartments unless it
has previously drawn these slippers over its boots,' said the custodian.

Mrs. Harvey-Browne looked at him critically. 'He has a very crude way of
expressing himself, hasn't he, dear?' she remarked to Ambrose.

'He is only quoting official regulations. He must, you know, mother. And
we are undoubtedly the public.'

Ambrose looked at my feet, then at the feet of my companion, and then
without more ado got into a pair of slippers. He wore knickerbockers and
stockings, and his legs had a classic refinement that erred, if at all,
on the side of over-slenderness. The effect of the enormous grey
slippers at the end of these Attic legs made me, for one awful moment,
feel as though I were going to shriek with laughter. An immense effort
strangled the shriek and left me unnaturally solemn.

Mrs. Harvey-Browne had now caught sight of the row of slippers. She put
up her eyeglasses and examined them carefully. 'How very German,' she
remarked.

'Put them on, mother,' said Ambrose; 'we are all wai