“Rolf, there are jests which may pass amongst ourselves, but you seem to forget we are not now alone, and you are wanting in respect to Miss Mordaunt.”
“Because I call her Major in the presence of a relation of the family! Excuse me, your Excellency, but you ought to have given me the watchword beforehand. I shall not forget again.”
“It is no good, grandfather,” said Francis; “at his age we cannot break him of his bad habits, though we might expect him to be respectful to the granddaughter of General von Zwenken, in spite of his having taught her her drill when a child. And now, as you have asked for the watchword of the day, Captain, attend: it is this, ‘Politeness to my visitor.’”
It became clear to me that the Captain had long been indulged in his vulgar familiarities, and that I ought not to attach too much importance to them. As soon as Fritz brought in the port-wine he filled three glasses brimful; presented the first glass to me, then one to the General, and taking up his own, said in his rough, good-natured way—
“The health of our commandant, and a welcome to you, Jonker!” apparently thinking this the best amends he could make.
As soon as Francis had taken a slight repast she left the room, and, at a hint from the General, Rolf did the same.
Now that we were left to our two selves, the General, drawing himself up with dignity in his chair, said—
“A word with you, Jonker, if you please.”
I bowed assent.
“But be so good as to move your chair nearer to me; I am a little deaf.”