“No ceremony, I beg,” said the Count Fitz-Hum: “for one day at least let no idle forms remind me of courts, or banish the happy thought that I am in the bosom of friends!” So saying, he stretched out his hand to the Commissioner; and, though he did not shake Pig’s hand, yet (as great men do) he pressed it with the air of one who has feelings too fervent and profound for utterance; whilst Pig on his part sank upon one knee, and imprinted a grateful kiss upon that princely hand which had by its condescension for ever glorified his own.
Von Hoax was no less gracious than the Count Fitz-Hum; and was pleased repeatedly, both by words and gestures, to signify that he dispensed with all ceremony and idle consideration of rank
The Commissioner was beginning to apologize for the unfinished state of the preparations, but the Count would not hear of it. “Affection to my person,” said he, “unseasonable affection, I must say it, has (it seems) betrayed my rank to you; but for this night at least, I beseech you let us forget it.”—And, upon the ladies excusing themselves from appearing, on the plea that their dresses were not yet arrived in which they could think of presenting themselves before their sovereign,—“Ah! what?” said the Count, gaily, “my dear Commissioner, I cannot think of accepting such excuses as these.” Agitated as the ladies were at this summons, they found all their alarms put to flight in a moment by the affability and gracious manners of the high personage. Nothing came amiss to him: every thing was right and delightful. Down went the little sopha-bed in a closet which they had found it necessary to make up for one night, the state-bed not being ready until the following day; and with the perfect high-breeding of a prince, he saw in the least mature of the arrangements for his reception, and the least successful of the attempts to entertain him, nothing but the good intention and affection which had suggested them.
The first great question which arose, was—At what hour would the Count Fitz-Hum be pleased to take supper? But this question the Count Fitz-Hum referred wholly to the two ladies; and for this one night he notified his pleasure that no other company should be invited. Precisely at 11 o’clock the party sat down to supper, which was served on the round table in the library. The Count Fitz-Hum, we have the pleasure of stating, was in the best health and spirits; and, on taking his seat, he smiled with the most paternal air—at the same time bowing to the ladies who sat on his right and left hand, and saying—“Où peut-on étre mieux, qu’au sein de sa famille?” At which words tears began to trickle down the cheeks of the Commissioner, overwhelmed with the sense of the honour and happiness which were thus descending pleno imbre
