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only about five-and-twenty, Lieutenant Imre von N. . . . .'s forehead showed those three or four lines that were incongruous with as sunny a face. Still, I found enough of the lighter vein in his autobiography to relieve it wholesomely. So I set him down for the average-situated young Hungarian soldier, as to the material side of his life or the rest; blessed with a cheerful temperament and a good appetite, and plagued by no undue faculties of melancholy or introspection. And, by-the by, merely to hear, to see, Imre von N. . . . laugh, was to forget that one's own mood a moment earlier had been grave enough, it migt be, He had the charm of a child's most infectious mirth, and its current was irresistible.
Now, in remembering what was to come later for us two, I need record here only one incident, in itself slight, of that first afternoon's parliament. I have mentioned that Lieutenant Imre seemed to have his full share of acquaintances, at least of the comrade-
