"You may congratulate yourself, dear Betty," replied the Princess, sharply, "if you are forgotten by my cousin. The attentions of the Prince are generally a source of alarm for the ladies who are favored with them."
"But we are all grateful to you," exclaimed Baroness Hallstein, a lady of spirit and character, "for having supported the Court in opposition to the lady from the Pavilion. Your cool remark gave general pleasure."
"Do you think so, Wally?" said the Princess, thoughtfully. "The woman is proud, and was defiant. But I had wounded her first, and on a day when I had the advantage."
CHAPTER XXX.
VEXATIONS.
The year began well in every respect. Woodcock and snipe had betaken themselves to their homes before the sportsmen had donned their boots, and the March-daffodils had really bloomed in March. The moon, between its first and last quarter, smiled every evening with wry, distorted mouth. At Court the Princess had turned her mind to search after lost manuscripts with the Professor, and in the city an uncommon inclination to quaff the punch of the fragrant woodruff-plant was perceptible among the citizens and tempted them to daring undertakings. Even quiet heads were infected by the intoxication of the season; straw and paper ruled supreme. All the world wore not only hats but also caps of straw; all the world occupied themselves with speculations and new investments. The house of Hahn was in the ascendant. The orders were so numerous that they could not be executed. In all the corners of the house sat girls, sewing straw plaits together; the smell of the brimstone in the street and neighboring gardens was insupportable. In the evenings Mr. Hummel sat on his upturned boat, like Napoleon at St. Helena, a vanquished man. With angry contempt he regarded the tumult of humanity. Repeatedly did his acquaintances call upon him to launch into the great activity of the time, to become a member of some stock-company, to found a bank, dig for coal, or smelt iron. He rejected all these proposals. When he went into his idle workshops, where he was only occupied in a struggle with moths, his book-keeper ventured to make a remark as to the possible future fashions in Parisian hats; he laughed demoniacally and replied:
"I cannot indulge in any speculation as to the covering that people will require when these wild projects cease; but if you wish to know what will be the next fashion, I will inform you. People will wear pitch-caps. I wonder that you are still at your desk. Why do you not do like others of your colleagues, who spend their time in wine-shops?"
"Mr. Hummel, my means do not allow of that," replied the depressed man.
"Your means!" cried Hummel; "who asks after that now? Lucifer-matches are as good as ready money. The street-porters discount bills and give one another their likenesses. Why do you not live like the book-keeper Knips over there? When I bought an orange for my wife of the Italian, I saw him sitting in the back room with a bottle of iced champagne. Why should you not put yourself on ice in this hot weather? These are nothing but ruinous, hare-brained projects; it is a Sodom and Gomorrah; the straw fire burns, but it will come to a frightful end."
Mr. Hummel closed his office and walked in the twilight into the park, where he wandered up and down on the frontiers of his territory like a spirit. He was awakened from his meditations by the wild barking of his brindle favorite, who rushed up to a bench in a shady part of the park, and savagely seized the boots and trousers of a man sitting there. Hummel approached nearer; a small man and a young woman hastily separated. Hummel was sufficiently man of the world not to let himself be seen, and he hastened back to his garden and continued his walk in wild strides.