"Oh, so so!" said Baron Barnewitz. "The winter wheat is generally doing very well; here and there the mice have done some harm. The summer was too hot. I think the rain will do us some good now. Apropos of rain, Grenwitz! we must settle that question about the ditches, else we shall all of us be drowned one of these days. I talked about it to Oldenburg, a few days ago. He belongs to our district, with his estate at Cona. He thought, too, the thing would have to be done this fall."
"Why, does the baron nowadays take an interest in farming? That is something entirely new," said Anna Maria.
"Entirely new, madame," affirmed Baron Barnewitz; "the very last news, ha, ha, ha! since his return from his travels; that is to say, about a fortnight. I think he will be crazy next."
"Or marry your cousin Melitta," said the baroness, smiling.
"Perhaps that would be the same thing," suggested Hortense.
"But, dear Hortense, you ought not to be so satirical," said the baroness, threatening the satirical blonde with her uplifted finger jestingly.
"Are jealous; you are jealous!" cried Baron Barnewitz. "You have always envied her her beaux, because she has one for every finger."
"It is a great art to be attended by gentlemen, if one leaves no means of coquetry unused," said Hortense, dropping her cloak far enough to show her white shoulders.
"Well, it is not quite as bad as that," replied her husband.
Hortense shrugged her white shoulders.