"Well, never mind, dear Grenwitz; we will not weary Dr. Stein on the very first evening he spends under our roof by the spectacle of discord between husband and wife. Besides, Doctor Stein must be tired. Mademoiselle, please ring the bell." The last words, spoken in French, were addressed to the young lady who had been sitting immovable at the table, without ever looking at the new-comer, and holding the book, from which she seemed to have been reading aloud, still in her hand. Now she rose and went to the door, near which the bell-rope was hanging. Oswald anticipated her, saying: "Permit me, mademoiselle." The girl looked at him out of her large brown eyes with a half-wondering, half-frightened glance, which betrayed clearly enough how little she was accustomed to be treated with such courtesy. Then, casting down her eyes quickly, she went back to her seat at the table. A servant entered, and received orders to show Oswald to his room.
"I hope you will find everything as you wish it," said the baroness, as Oswald took his leave with a silent bow; "if anything has been forgotten, or does not suit your taste, I beg you will let us know at once; I am exceedingly anxious for our own sake that you should be comfortable in our house."
Oswald bowed once more and followed the servant to his room.
They went across a hall, on the walls of which Oswald noticed, by the flickering light of the candle, full-size portraits of gentlemen and ladies in old-fashioned costumes; then up a stone staircase, through long galleries and a suite of rooms into a larger apartment.
"This is your room, doctor," said the man, lighting the two candles which stood on a large round table in the centre of the room. "That door opens into your bedroom."
"And where do the boys sleep?" asked Oswald.
"If you go through your bedroom, you get into the young gentlemen's room. Have you any orders, sir?"
"No, I thank you."
"I wish you a good-night, sir."
"Good-night."