"Have you noticed," some one asked, "how much attention the Baron von Herisau is paying her?"
I whirled round and exclaimed, in a breath, "The Baron von Herisau!" "Yes," said my friend; "do you know him?"
I was glad that three crashing, tremendous chords came from the orchestra just then, giving me time to collect myself before I replied: "I am not sure whether it is the same person: I knew a Baron von Herisau long ago: how old is the gentleman here?"
"About thirty-five, I should think," my friend answered.
"Ah, then it can't be the same person," said I: "still, if he should happen to pass near us, will you point him out to me?"
It was an hour later, and we were all hotly discussing the question of Lessing's obligations to English literature, when one of the gentlemen at the table sai
