"Well, a man who is scarcely less famous: Baron Oldenburg. His name stood close behind ours on the list."
"The Oldenburgs are of ancient family?" asked Oswald, who had learnt to understand the meaning of that remark.
"The Oldenburgs are, after the Grenwitzes, the oldest noble family in the country," said the baroness, with grand self-satisfaction. "The Grenwitzes can trace their pedigree up to the beginning of the twelfth century; the Oldenburgs date from the end of the thirteenth century, when Adalbert, the founder of that noble family, was created a baron by the Emperor."
"And the name of Oldenburg?" asked Oswald.
"The Oldenburgs would be sovereigns, like the dukes of their name, if they were legitimate."
"And what makes such a remarkable personage of the baron, aside from his illustrious descent?" asked Oswald.
The baroness was rather embarrassed by his question. What was in her eyes so very remarkable in the baron, his sovereign contempt of rank, his sarcastic, ironical manner to those of his own caste--this remarkable feature, which appeared almost immaterial in her eyes, was not exactly a fit subject to be discussed with a man of low birth. She contented herself; therefore, with the vague answer:--
"The baron has very eccentric views about most things in the world, so that I am often afraid for his mind."
At that moment a horseman came galloping from a by-road and stopped his horse as the carnage passed. It was a young man with a pleasant, dark face, on which a blond mustache appeared to advantage.
"Ah, baroness--baron--delighted to see you," he called out, doffing his hat and riding up to the coach--"have not had the honor for an eternity----"