as ever, and took no part in the rather banal smile which played
over his lips, as if the accustomed expression of indifference could
never be obliterated. The indolent lines about his mouth were not
those of temperament, because if he spoke to a Finance Minister or
other notability, although there was no arrogance in his manner, it
might be noticed that the instinctive consciousness of his own
millions never left him. He had a naturally honorable disposition,
which showed itself in every line, and made any cringing an
impossibility. The guests praised everything, especially the costly
refreshments handed by the servants in faultless liveries.

The dancing-room was a cheerful sight. Girls and young married women
flew round over the polished floor on the arms of well-dressed men,
mostly officers, spinning and whirling round to Offenbach's dance
music, led with bacchanalian fire by a small but distinguished
conductor from a red covered platform. It was exciting to watch the
rows of couples as they waltzed wildly round, and to the dazzled
sight it seemed like a glimpse in a dream into Mohammed's Paradise;
as if in his wonderful mirror he had reflected the slim figures of
the dancers, with their flashing blue or black eyes, their burning
cheeks, their parted lips, their bosoms rising and falling, the
scene moving in ever-changing perspective; a sight gay and wonderful
as the freakish games of a crowd of elves.

The untiring energy of the dancers was wonderful. During the pauses
a girl could hardly sit for a moment to rest, but a strong arm would
whirl her away again in the vortex of the dance. A few old gentlemen
stood in the recesses of the windows and in the doorways, with the
quiet enjoyment of those who look on, and among them was Wilhelm
Eynhardt. He stood with his back against a window-frame, almost