They ran down the polished stairs, Richard grinning at the notion of being “fetched.”
In the drawing-room Felix Koch was apologizing profusely for his wife’s absence, while Frau von Relling plied him with coffee and cream cakes and delicatessen sandwiches.
“You will be welcome whenever you come again to play with my Lothar,” she condescended to Richard. Then sighed heavily: “My big boy!” and took Lothar’s hand and fondled it. Lothar received the caress with an expression which was decorously demure. “Smug little humbug!” reflected Richard.
“Indeed, Herr Koch, it is well that the dear Marianna did not call to-day, as it is possible that your honoured Frau Mama might be drinking coffee with me presently.”
“So?” Koch nodded gloomily. His wife and his mother were not on speaking terms; and all the town knew why. He had committed an unprecedented folly in marrying the pretty daughter of a shopkeeper in Bingen.
Frau von Relling continued: “Doubtless the dear Marianna is busy with the entertainment of the little English Miss.” Then eagerly: “Has she received any offers yet?”
“She has only been with us three days,” Koch replied. And added with a mysterious inflection, “But Salzmann has sent to Frankfurt for his brother.”
“And how many bouquets?”
“Eleven. And two chocolate-boxes.”
“Has Herr Sigismund Koch shown her a little attention?”