As a fire was blazing in the dining-room, which Mrs. Clara informed them Mr. Beckendorff never omitted having every night in the year, the Prince and his friend imagined that they were to remain there, and they consequently did not attempt to disturb the slumbers of their host. Resting his feet on the hobs, his Highness, for the fiftieth time, declared that he wished he had never left Turriparva; and just when Vivian was on the point of giving up in despair the hope of consoling him, Mrs. Clara entered and proceeded to lay the cloth.
“Your master is awake, then?” asked the Prince, very quickly.
“Mr. Beckendorff has been long awake, sir! and dinner will be ready immediately.”
His Highness’ countenance brightened; and in a short time the supper appearing, the Prince, again fascinated by Mrs. Clara’s cookery and Mr. Beckendorff’s wine, forgot his chagrin, and regained his temper.
In about a couple of hours Mr. Beckendorff entered.
“I hope that Clara has given you wine you like, Mr. von Philipson?”
“The same bin, I will answer for that.”
Mr. Beckendorff had his violin in his hand, but his dress was much changed. His great boots being pulled off, exhibited the white silk stockings which he invariably wore. His coat had given place to the easier covering of a brocade dressing-gown. He drew a chair round the fire, between the Prince and Vivian. It was a late hour, and the room was only lighted by the glimmering coals, for the flames had long died away. Mr. Beckendorff sat for some time without speaking, gazing earnestly on the decaying embers. Indeed, before many minutes had elapsed, complete silence prevailed; for both the endeavours of the Prince and of Vivian to promote conversation had been unsuccessful. At length the master of the house turned round to the Prince, and pointing to a particular mass of coal, said, “I think, Mr. von Philipson, that is the completest elephant I ever saw. We will ring the bell for some coals, and then have a game of whist.”
The Prince was so surprised by Mr. Beckendorff’s remark that he was not sufficiently struck by the strangeness of his proposition, and it was only when he heard Vivian professing his ignorance of the game that it occurred to him that to play at whist was hardly the object for which he had travelled from Turriparva.
“An Englishman not know whist!” said Mr. Beckendorff: