"The soup is upon the table," said Herr von Osternau, who had observed this little scene with some displeasure and was in a hurry to cut it short. "Let us be seated. Your place is here between Lieschen and Fritz, Herr Pigglewitch."
Herr von Osternau was wont during dinner to discuss with his inspectors the various agricultural interests of the estate. Of course it would have been natural that he should apply first in such matters to his superintendent, Cousin Albrecht, but he knew that he should receive unsatisfactory replies from that quarter, and accordingly he conversed upon these subjects directly with Herr Storting and the third inspector, Herr von Wangen. As, however, the latter had excused himself from dining with the family to-day, being too much occupied with the harvesting, Herr von Osternau directed his inquiries and remarks to Herr Storting only.
These farming disquisitions, questions as to the yield of hay to be expected from this or that meadow, as to the excellence of the crop, etc., matters of vivid interest to the landed proprietor, were utterly devoid of such for Egon. He knew perfectly well that hay was dried grass and was used for fodder for horses and cattle, but he had no idea of the importance of the labour which was necessary to gather in and duly store this precious product of the fields. He really could not follow the conversation which was carried on almost entirely between Herr von Osternau and Storting, with here and there a remark thrown in by Cousin Albrecht by way of asserting his dignity as superintendent, and he would have been very much bored had his attention not been entirely absorbed by his neighbour on his right.
As he took his place beside her Lieschen had given him a charming little nod, and when her father began his agricultural talk with Herr Storting, she turned to Egon and said, in a low tone,--
"I thank you, Herr Piggle----" She paused; "Herr Candidate," she added.
"Why do you interrupt yourself, Fräulein Lieschen?"
"I promised not to laugh at you at table, and I do not wish to break my word. You must not take it amiss, but indeed your name is too comical, I should laugh if I said it, and that would mortify you."
"Not in the least. I resign my ridiculous name with pleasure to your tender mercies. Laugh if you like, and I will join your laughter at 'Pigglewitch.' The owner of such a name must make up his mind to have it laughed at, so it is his best policy to laugh too."
Lieschen looked at him in surprise.
"That I cannot understand," she said. "How can any one laugh at his own name, however ridiculous it may be? For him who bears it a name must be something sacred, to be revered as a memento of parents and grandparents who have borne it."