“Yes, yes, of course,” said Frank hastily.
“They will be more civil after dinner. Ah, and there it is.”
For the door was thrown open, one of the servants announced the dinner, and the colonel led off with Baron Steinberg, after saying a few words to Sir Robert, who came directly to his brother-officer.
“The colonel wishes the places to be changed, Murray,” he said, “so that you and I can be closer to the head of the table on either side, to do the talking with the visitors. I wish you would take my boy here on your left. Forbes, my lad, you come and sit with me.”
Andrew had begun to look a little glum at being set on one side on account of the German officers; but at Sir Robert’s last words he brightened up a little, and they followed into the messroom, which was decorated with the regimental colours; the hall looked gay with its fine display of plate, glass, flowers, and fruit, and the band was playing in a room just beyond.
The scene drove away all the little unpleasantry, and the dinner proceeded, with the colonel and his officers doing their best to entertain their guests, but only seeming to succeed with the two pages of honour, to whom everything was, in its novelty, thoroughly delightful. The German officers, though noblemen and gentlemen, gave their hosts a very poor example of good breeding, being all through exceedingly haughty and overbearing, and treating the attempts of Sir Robert and Captain Murray to act as their interpreters to the colonel and the other officers with a contempt that was most galling; and more than once Frank saw his father, who was opposite, bite his lip and look across at Captain Murray, who, after one of these glances, whispered to Frank:
“Your dad’s getting nettled, my lad, and I find it very consoling.”
“Why?” said Frank, who felt annoyed with himself for enjoying the evening so much.
“Why? Because I was fancying that I must have a very hasty temper for minding what has been taking place. Do you know any German at all?”
“Very little,” said Frank quickly.