I was very curious to see whether Francis had dressed for dinner, how she looked, &c. But, alas! my hopes were disappointed. Her beautiful hair was loosely confined in a silk net, which seemed scarcely capable of sustaining its weight. She had not changed her dress, and had only thrown over her shoulders a small faded shawl, which served to hide the white and slender form of her neck. She perceived my disappointment; in fact, her beautiful eyes regarded me with an air that seemed to say—
“Make up your mind that I am totally indifferent as to the impression I may produce on you.”
Otherwise she performed her part as hostess with exemplary zeal and great ability. She served the soup, carved the meat, and even changed the plates herself—as Fritz seemed to consider his duty done when he had placed the things on the sideboard. To my great surprise, the dinner was abundant and even recherché.
After the soup, which was excellent, roast beef with choice preserved vegetables was served up—“surrogate of the primeurs,” as the General expressed himself; then partridges in aspic and a poulet au riz, followed by young cabbages with baked eels, which, the Captain said playfully, had only gone into his net for my sake. As plat doux, we had a pudding with the wonderful sauce Francis had been called into the kitchen to make; and to wind up, a complete dessert. It was difficult for me to reconcile all this with the idea of people living in straitened circumstances.
The different kinds of wine, furnished in over-great abundance and variety by the Captain, who acted as butler, completed the luxuries of the table. The wines were of the best brands, and my host and his aide-de-camp took care to call my attention to them. My habits of abstinence obliged me to exercise great moderation, and I could plainly see that they were disappointed at my want of enthusiasm.
Neither the crockery nor the table-linen was in keeping with the luxury of the courses. The former was French china, dating from the same period as the furniture and the golden leather tapestries, and had evidently suffered a good deal from rough usage and servants. It was cracked, riveted, incomplete; and modern blue ware had been purchased to supply deficiencies, thus enhancing its splendour and emphasizing the contrast. The large damask tablecloth, that represented the marriage of a Spanish Infanta, had certainly done duty when Aunt Sophia ruled as mistress of the establishment. It was exceedingly fine but worn, and the rents had not always been neatly darned. As for the silver, the speed with which Francis sent the forks and spoons to the kitchen and ordered them back, proved to me that the dozens were not complete. On the other hand, there was an abundance of cut glass, to which the Captain directed my attention lest I should overlook it, adding, however—
“I do not attach much value to such things. Many a time during the campaign I have drunk beer out of a milk-pail, and champagne out of teacups; and I did not enjoy it the less for that.”
“Provided the cups were not too small,” interrupted Francis.
“But the General,” continued Rolf, without noticing the remark, “the General would rather go without Yquem than drink it out of a common glass; and as our Major (I mean Freule, the commander-in-chief) always manifests the greatest indifference in this respect, I have charged myself with the care of the General’s wine-cellar.”
I neither liked nor approved the tone of the Captain’s observations; but Von Zwenken said nothing. Francis did not, however, fail to retaliate in her vehement way.