"No, no, tell me all!"
"Well, madame, I went to the castle of Henferester. The baron began to ridicule me because I went in a carriage instead of on horseback."
"The wicked old centaur! . . . He thinks that everybody is like himself, all iron and steel," said Martha, contemptuously.
"Then, when I began to speak to him of my lawsuit, he said to me in his loud voice 'Dinner first, . . . we can talk better glass in hand.'"
"The drunkard! I recognize him there."
"Not daring to oppose the baron, I went to the table; but at the risk of displeasing him, as he had not said grace, I asked his permission to say it."
"Poor little martyr! . . . Well done, my child! and the brute let you say it, I hope?"
"Yes, madame, but he afterwards laughed so much that I felt scandalized." . . .
"I believe it. . . . Unfortunate lamb! . . . where were you straying, God of heaven!"
"As I ate but little, the baron said to me, 'You have dined, then?' 'No sir,' I answered, 'but the Scripture says: Be not eager at the feast.'" . . .