ous granny, what will you say next?' murmured
Amanda, faint with suppressed laughter.

'What are you muttering about?' asked Granny, sharply.

'Trying to recall those fine lines in "Wilhelm Meister;" don't you
remember? "Wer nie sein Brod mit Thraenen ass,"' replied Amanda, polite
even at the last gasp.

'I read my Goethe in decent English, and don't know anything about
training asses,' returned Lavinia, severely.

That was too much! Amanda cast her paper down, and had her laugh out, as
the only means of saving herself from suffocation. The others gazed upon
her in blank amazement, till she found breath enough to enlighten them,
when such peals of merriment arose, that the guard popped his head in to
see if he had not unwittingly shipped a load of lunatics.

'That was splendid! But now we must sober down, for a gorgeous being is
about to get in,' said Amanda, as they stopped at a station.

The gorgeous being entered, and found three demure ladies rapt in
newspapers. They apparently saw nothing but the words before them; yet
every one of them knew that the handsome young man had bowed in the most
superior manner; also, that he was dressed in brown velvet, long
gaiters, buttoned to the knee, a ravishing blue tie, buff gloves, and
pouch and powder-horn slung over his shoulder. Also, that a servant with
two dogs and a gun had touched his hat and said, 'Oui, monsieur le
comte,' as he shut the door.

A slight thrill pervaded the statues as this fact was made known, and
each began to wonder how the elegant aristocrat would behave. To say
that he stared, feebly expresses the fixity of his noble gaze, as it
rested in turn upon the three faces opposite. When satisfied, he also
produced a paper and began to read. But Matilda caught a big, black eye
peering over the sheet more than once, as she peered over the top of her
own.

'I don't like him. Remember, we don't speak French,' whispered the
discreet Amanda.

'I can swear that I don't,' said Lavinia, with an irrepressible smile,
as she remembered the 'blue son.'

'The language of the eye is not forbidden me, and I can't sit baking
under a newspaper all the way,' returned Matilda, whose blond curls had
evidently met with the great creature's approval.

A slight pucker about the Comte's lips caused a thrill of horror to
pervade the ladies, as Amanda murmured under her breath,--

'He may understand English!'

'Then we are lost!' returned the tragic Raven.

'Wish he