They had now reached the house, and were ushered into a room gaily lighted and filled with guests.  The hostess came forward to receive them, dressed in white, and sailing down the room like a swan.  When the customary salutations had passed and Flemming had been duly presented, the Baron said, not without a certain degree of malice;

“And, my dear Frau Kranich, how is your good husband to night?”

This question was about as discreet as a cannon-ball.  But the lady replied in the simplicity of her heart, and not in the least disconcerted;

“The same as ever, my dear Baron.  It is astonishing how he holds out.  But let us not talk of these things now.  I must introduce your friend to his countryman, the Grand Duke of Mississippi; alike remarkable for his wealth, his modesty, and the extreme simplicity of his manners.  He drives only six horses.  Besides, he is known as a man of learning and piety;—­has his private chapel, and private clergyman, who always preaches against the vanity of worldly riches.  He has also a private secretary, whose sole duty is to smoke to him, that he may enjoy the aroma of Spanish cigars, without the trouble of smoking.”

“Decidedly a man of genius!”

Here Flemming was introduced to his illustrious countryman; a person who seemed to consist chiefly of linen, such a display did he make of collar, bosom, and wristbands.

“Pray, Mr. Flemming, what do you think of that Rembrandt?” said he, pointing to a picture onthe wall.  “Exquisite picture!  The grandeur of sentiment and splendor of chiaroscuro are of the first order.  Just observe the liquidity of the water, and the silveryness of the clouds!  Great power!  There is a bravura of handling in that picture, Sir, which requires the eye of the connoisseur to appreciate.”

“Yes, a most undoubted—­copy!”

And here their conversation ended; for at that moment the little Moldavian Prince Jerkin made his way through the crowd, with his snuff-box as usual in his hand, and hurried up to Flemming whom he had known in Heidelberg.  He was eager to let every one know that he spoke English, and in his haste began by making a mistake.

“Good bye!  Good bye!  Mr. Flemming!” said he, instead of good evening.  “I am ravished to see you in Ems.  Nice place;—­all that there is of most nice.  I drink my water and am good!  Do you not think the Frau Kranich has a very beautiful leather?”

He meant skin.  Flemming laughed outright; but it was not perceived by the Prince, because at that moment he was pushed aside, in the rush of a gallopade, and Flemming beheld his face no more.  At the same moment the Baron introduced a friend of his, who also spoke English and said;

“You will sup with me to-night.  I have some Rhine-wine, which will be a seduction to you.”

Soon after, the Baron stood with an impassioned, romantic lady leaning on his arm, examining a copy of Raphael’s Fornarina.