Chapter I.
Crinoline.
An express train was just on the eve of leaving the railway station in Munich. Two fashionably dressed gentlemen stood at the open door of a railway carriage, in conversation with a third, who sat within. These two young men bore on their features the marks of youthful dissipation, indicating that they had not been sparing of pleasures. The one in the carriage had a handsome, florid countenance, two clear, expressive eyes, and thick locks of hair, which he now and then stroked back from his fine forehead. He scarcely observed the conversation of the two friends, who spoke of balls, dogs, horses, theatres, and ballet-girls.
In the same carriage sat another traveller, evidently the father of the young man. He was reading the newspaper—that is, the report of the money market—while his fleshy left hand dallied with the heavy gold rings of his watch-chain. He had paid no attention to the conversation till an observation of his son brought him to serious reflection.
"By the by," said one of the young men quickly, "I was nearly forgetting to tell you the news, Richard! Do you know that Baron Linden is engaged?"
"Engaged? To whom?" said Richard carelessly.
"To Bertha von Harburg. I received a card this morning, and immediately wrote a famous letter of congratulation."
Richard looked down earnestly and shook his head.
"I commiserate the genial baron," said he. "What could he be thinking of, to rush headlong into this misfortune?"
The father looked in surprise at his son; the hand holding the paper sank on his knee.