He knew that old blood was usually bad blood, that in a thousand years it became a poisonous stream, for the want of fresh springs to purify it.

But the head of the young peasant was lowered a little, and the last representative of ten centuries of decadence did not see the gleam of defiance, even of contempt in his eyes.
"You have not been at Zillenstein long," said the prince.
"But a week, Your Highness." "Walther speaks well of you.

The Walthers have served the Auerspergs for centuries and his judgment and loyalty are to be trusted." John's heart, stanch republican that he was, rose in rebellion at the thought that one family should serve another for a thousand years, but of course he was silent.
"Walther tells me also," resumed the prince, "that you can handle an automobile with skill and that you understand them." "Herr Walther is very kind to me, Your Highness." "It was you also who rode the horse of Pappenheim.

A great feat.

It showed ability and courage.