"Lucky Alma!" said Ottilie sighing; "how much I should like to go with you. But my husband would never allow it."
"'Allow' is a word a husband should never be permitted to use to his wife," said Alma, as she slipped her wedding-ring up and down her slender finger.
The conversation between the two ladies was interrupted by Assessor Sellien, who hastily entered the room.
"Why," said his wife, "have you come back already? Is the carriage here? I haven't put on my travelling-dress yet."
"The carriage is not here," said the Assessor as he seated himself between the two ladies, and raised his wife's hand, which hung loosely over the back of the sofa, to his lips; "I only came to ask whether you would not prefer to stay here."
"Stay here!" said Alma, hastily starting from her lounging attitude in the sofa corner. "What has got into your head, Hugo?"
"You have one of your headaches, dear child, and a very bad one; I noticed it some time ago."
"You are entirely mistaken, dear Hugo; I feel unusually well this morning."
"And this terrible weather," said the Assessor, looking thoughtfully through the open door that led to the balcony; "there, it is raining again; I don't understand how ladies can expose themselves so."
He rose and shut the door.