"Horrible, mon cher? Do not make me unhappy; I have cultivated it now for three years, and it has cost me at least a million."
"Ah, nonsense," said the dandy, stroking his handsome mustache.
"Upon my word and honor," said Oldenburg. "The thing is simply this:--I made in Cairo the acquaintance of an English family, whom I met frequently on the Nile; I was lucky enough to render them some service. The family consisted of father, mother, and daughter--but what a daughter! mon cher, I tell you----"
"Ah, yes, I understand!" said Cloten, "thoroughbred! These English misses, divine--beautiful--saw one in Baden Baden--never forget her in all my life."
"Just so was my Mary," said Oldenburg.
"Not possible?"
"You may rely upon it. All English misses look alike, as one lily looks like another. Eh bien! The girl falls in love with the man who has saved her life. The father likes me; the mother consents. I am not a millionaire, like Mr. Brown; but then he was only a retired dealer in iron, and I an old German baron. Enough, we ratify the bargain. Then Mary says one evening--it seems as if it had been yesterday--we were sitting in the moonlight on the terrace of the temple at Philæ, and looked dreamily at the quiet river, and emptied drop by drop the full cup of love. Then she says, coming close up to me,--oh! I hear her voice still so distinctly,--Adalbert, says she--What, sweet one?--Adalbert, pray, dearest love, cut off your horrible beard--it's so vulgar."
"Ah, yes! divine, divine--these English misses.--But what did she mean?"
"She meant to say: My boy, beards are vulgar in England. Cut it off!"
"Why, that was too bad!"