'
KEBLE.
After such a rebuff as Martyn had experienced at Beachharbour, he no
longer haunted its neighbourhood, but devoted the long vacation of
the ensuing year to a walking tour in Germany, with one or two
congenial spirits, who shared his delight in scenery, pictures, and
architecture.
By and by he wrote to Clarence from Baden Baden -
'Whom do you think I should find here but Griffith and his bird? I
first spotted the old fellow smoking under a tree in the Grand
Platz, but he looked so seedy and altered altogether that I was not
sure enough of him to speak, especially as he showed no signs of
knowing me. (He says it was my whiskers that stumped him.) I made
inquiries and found that they figured as "Sir Peacock and lady," but
they were entered all right in the book. He is taking the "Kur"--he
looks as if he wanted it--and she is taking rouge et noir. I saw
her at the salon, with her neck grown as long as her namesake's, but
not as pretty, claws to match, thin and painted, as if the ruling
passion was consuming her. Poor old Griff! he was glad enough to
see me, but he is wofully shaky, and nearly came to tears when he
asked after Ted and all at home. They had an upset of their
carriage in Vienna last winter, and he got some twist, or other
damage, which he thought nothing of, but it has never righted
itself; I am sure he is very ill, and ought to be looked after.
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