“Orders? Scarcely that, my dear Borgert. Once in a while I am the messenger of my dear husband when he has forgotten something. Of course, I take an interest in all that concerns him and the squadron.”
“Frau Captain is quite right, and I can only congratulate you on the successful way in which your interest in the squadron and in the whole regiment takes concrete form.”
“You are always jesting. But I suppose I shall see you at the Casino to-night?”
“Assuredly, we are to meet at five to talk over some service matters.”
“Yes, you remind me. But that will not last long. It concerns only some trifling affairs.”
“Much obliged for the exact information.”
“Oh, of course, I take an interest in everything, as I said. I called the colonel’s attention to divers things, and I presume he will talk them over with you gentlemen.”
“I am curious to learn what they can be. But, pardon me, I see Captain König coming, with whom I have to transact some business. Good morning, my most gracious lady!”
“Good morning, mon cher!” And she held her hand up high to him,—a big hand, which was encased in a soiled, worn-out gauntlet of her husband’s.
Then she turned once more to the sergeant-major, while Borgert hastened to intercept König, who was on the point of turning into the big courtyard of the third squadron.