"Are you quite sure, Herr Rosenbusch," she said, "that they recognized you again? The beautiful Fräulein scarcely moved her head when you took off your hat to her, as though she meant to say, 'You are undoubtedly mistaken in the person, sir.'"
"It was merely her surprise, and a passing feeling of displeasure at seeing me approach in such charming company. She may have attributed too much meaning to the pretty speeches I made to her that night. These high-born Fräuleins are devilish sensitive, and for that reason I now refrain from speaking to her. But why don't you go over and introduce yourself to the ladies, my dear baron--you who have blue blood as well as they?"
Just at this moment Schnetz, in all his lankness, stepped up to their table and greeted the ladies with formal politeness, at the same time shaking hands with his friends. The fact that he should meet Felix here did not seem to strike him as strange.
"You happy mortals!" he growled out, biting his cigar, and pulling his hat down lower over his forehead, while he withdrew a little distance from the rest with Felix and Elfinger. "You all get on so capitally together, and it does one good to hear you laugh so heartily; while we are keeping up the usual sort of conventional twaddle, which consists, upon my soul, in each one's saying nothing which the others could not have said as well. They have just been wondering, behind my back, that I should have anything whatever to do with you people, whom they look upon as _mauvais genre_. A few artists and two pretty girls, at whose papa's Madame the Countess buys her gloves--_quelle horreur!_ But the ladies are not so bad; even the young countess, with the fixed dimples in her highly-colored cheeks--by Heaven! little Fanny over there looks ten times as much like a countess--even she is a good child, _au fond_, and the right sort of a husband might still make something of her. But as for that cousin of hers, to whom she is as good as engaged, and the other young nobleman, with the imperial and the heavy manner--between ourselves, he is dead in love with my little princess, who scarcely honors him with a look--_tonnerre de Dieu!_ what nice specimens they are of our high-born youth! And to think of my being condemned to go about among them without treading on their toes! Thus are the sins of the fathers visited upon the children! The first Schnetz who, whether as marshal or hostler, helped an Agilolfinger into the saddle, has it on his conscience that I, the unworthiest of his descendants, still belong with the rest of them, hard as I try to make myself disagreeable and even unbearable."