“‘No—really though?’ cried the waiter, as if it were scarcely possible.
“‘Really,’ sighed poor Mr. Franz.
“‘Then do me the honour, sir,’ exclaimed the waiter, with a sudden deference of manner; and taking the tips of Franz’s fingers in his own, he bent over them with a salute. ‘You’re a wise young gentleman now, sir, and your fortune’s made. I’m glad you’ve hit it at last!
“And Mr. Franz had hit it at last, indeed,” continued Aunt Judy, “as appeared more plainly still by the letters of introduction which reached him next morning. They were left open, and were to this effect:—
“‘ . . . The bearer of this is the son of an old friend. One of the most agreeable young men I ever saw. As modest as he is well educated, and I can’t say more. Procure him some amusement, that a little of his shyness may be rubbed off; and forward his fortunes, my dear friend, as far as you can . . . ’
“Franz handed one of these letters to his friend the waiter, and the ‘officious fellow’ grinned from ear to ear.
“‘There is only one more thing to fear,’ observed he.
“‘And what?’ asked Franz.
“‘Why, that now you’re comfortable, my dear young gentleman, your head should be turned, and you should begin to make yourself agreeable again, and spoil all.’
“‘Oh, pooh! bother agreeable; I say now, as you did,’ cried Franz, laughing. ‘No, no, my good friend, I’m not going to make myself agreeable any more. I know better than that at last!’