“For Paul’s sake, my dear lady.”
She shrugged her shoulders and turned away from him.
“Of course,” she said, “it is quite easy to be rude. As it happens, it is precisely for Paul’s sake that I took the trouble of speaking to you on this matter. I do not wish him to be troubled with such small domestic affairs; and therefore, if we are to live under the same roof, I shall deem it a favor if you will, at all events, conceal your disapproval of me.”
He bowed gravely and kept silence. Etta sat with a little patch of color on either cheek, looking into the fire until the door was opened and Maggie came in.
Steinmetz went toward her with his grave smile, while Etta hid a face which had grown haggard.
Maggie glanced from one to the other with frank interest. The relationship between these two had rather puzzled her of late.
“Well,” said Steinmetz, “and what of St. Petersburg?”
“I am not disappointed,” replied Maggie. “It is all I expected and more. I am not blasie like Etta. Every thing interests me.”
“We were discussing Petersburg when you came in,” said Steinmetz, drawing forward a chair. “The princess does not like it. She complains of—nerves.”
“Nerves!” exclaimed Maggie, turning to her cousin. “I did not suspect you of having them.”