CHAPTER X
THE BURGRAVE'S WELCOME
"I tempted his blood and his flesh,
Hid in roses my mesh,
Choicest cates and the flagon's best spilth...."
ROBERT BROWNING.
"So you have had visitors, Sidonia, my dove? Eh?" said the Burgrave.
His tone was good-humoured, but the glance he fixed upon the girl was cold. He had very pale grey eyes that could stare by the minute together without blinking, a power somewhat disconcerting (he flattered himself) to those who thought to keep secrets from him. Sidonia had just entered the room and was hastening to greet her uncle, for whom she had a certain placid affection. But instinctively she drew back, affronted, upon meeting that gaze. The words of welcome died on her lips.
"Yes, we've had visitors," she answered defiantly, tilting back her head.—Did Uncle Ludo think to frighten her?
"That was delightful," said the Burgrave, his unwinking stare upon her.
"It was delightful," said Betty. She stood behind her husband's chair, ministering to him after the right Germanic fashion he loved; and small scornful remarks on the number of rummers she was called upon to fill with the yellow wine, on the size of the slices of smoked ham he dealt himself, she did not spare him. Nevertheless she watched his appetite with satisfaction. Surely so large a meal and much jealousy could scarce find room in the same frame. "It was delightful, for me at least," said Betty, glibly. "I, who had not seen my cousin, my favourite cousin, for so long."
Her blue eyes rolled warningly at Sidonia, over the top of the Burgrave's stubble head. The girl gave her aunt a quick look, then walked up to the table.
"Good morning, uncle. I hope you are well," she said, demurely now, and laid a light kiss on his temple.