Never had Madame von Stork spoken so severely. The twins nearly fell from their chairs. Carl opened his mouth, and his eyes stared at Marianne. Pauline never looked up once from her embroidery. Bettina's knitting needles shook in her hands.
"She's been reading under the table cover," announced Otto with the superior air boys wore in those days with their sisters. "It's the 'Sorrow of Werther.' I see the cover."
Such a thing had never happened in the "Stork's Nest."
The father's face grew stern, and anger made even his neck red to the roots of his queue.
"Marianne," he began, when the maid opening the door announced:
"His Excellency, Herr Doctor Hufeland, and the gracious Herr Brandt."
A great cry of "Ludwig!" "Cousin Ludwig!" welcomed the entrance of a tall, handsome man of perhaps thirty-five, with a serious face and English features. He was dressed in one of the long-tailed coats then the fashion, coming down to the top of his high, spurred boots. His hair was brushed forward, and within the high collars of his coat appeared a soft lawn stock. The other gentleman Bettina at once recognised as the physician who had been with the Queen on the road from Memel.
"We call him 'Cousin Ludwig,'" whispered Elsa. "He was betrothed to our Aunt Erna who died."
"He won't speak French," whispered Isle; "he says Germans should not imitate the French people as upper-class people do, but should speak their own language."
Bettina was glad of this, for often she had to sit for hours without understanding a word, unless the twins explained things.