We watched them, too, out of the theatre. Tapeworm had just walked

off, enveloped in his cloak, with which his gigantic chasseur was

always in attendance, and looking as much as possible like Don Juan.

The Prime Minister's lady had just squeezed herself into her sedan, and

her daughter, the charming Ida, had put on her calash and clogs; when

the English party came out, the boy yawning drearily, the Major taking

great pains in keeping the shawl over Mrs. Osborne's head, and Mr.

Sedley looking grand, with a crush opera-hat on one side of his head

and his hand in the stomach of a voluminous white waistcoat. We took

off our hats to our acquaintances of the table d'hote, and the lady, in

return, presented us with a little smile and a curtsey, for which

everybody might be thankful.

The carriage from the inn, under the superintendence of the bustling

Mr. Kirsch, was in waiting to convey the party; but the fat man said he

would walk and smoke his cigar on his way homewards, so the other

three, with nods and smiles to us, went without Mr. Sedley, Kirsch,

with the cigar case, following in his master's wake.

We all walked together and talked to the stout gentleman about the

agremens of the place. It was very agreeable for the English. There

were shooting-parties and battues; there was a plenty of balls and

entertainments at the hospitable Court; the society was generally good;

the theatre excellent; and the living cheap.

"And our Minister seems a most delightful and affable person," our new

friend said. "With such a representative, and--and a good medical man,

I can fancy the place to be most eligible. Good-night, gentlemen." And

Jos creaked up the stairs to bedward, followed by Kirsch with a

flambeau. We rather hoped that nice-looking woman would be induced to

stay some time in the town.




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