“I suppose that is it,” said Maggie, lifting the tea-pot lid and looking in. “At all events, it is the sort of answer one might expect from you. You are always hard on human nature.”
“I take it as I find it,” replied Steinmetz, with a laugh, “but I do not worry about it like some people. Now, Paul would like to alter the course of the world.”
As he spoke he half turned toward Paul, as if suggesting that he should give an opinion, and this little action had the effect of putting a stop to the conversation. Maggie had plenty to say to Steinmetz, but toward Paul her mental attitude was different. She was probably unaware of this little fact.
“There,” she said, after a pause, “I have obeyed Etta’s instructions. She does not want us to begin, I suppose?”
“No,” replied Paul. “She will be down in a minute.”
“I hope the princess is not overtired,” said Steinmetz, with a certain formal politeness which seemed to accompany any mention of Etta’s name.
“Not at all, thank you,” replied Etta herself, coming into the room at that moment. She looked fresh and self-confident. “On the contrary, I am full of energy and eagerness to explore the castle. One naturally takes an interest in one’s baronial halls.”
With this she walked slowly across to the window. She stood there looking out, and every one in the room was watching. On looking for the first time on the same view, a few moments earlier, Maggie had uttered a little cry of surprise, and had then remained silent. Etta looked out of the window and said nothing. It was a most singular out-look—weird, uncouth, prehistoric, as some parts of the earth still are. The castle was built on the edge of a perpendicular cliff. On this side it was impregnable. Any object dropped from the breakfast-room window would fall a clear two hundred feet to the brawling Oster River. The rock was black, and shining like the topmost crags of an Alpine mountain where snow and ice have polished the bare stone. Beyond and across the river lay the boundless steppe—a sheet of virgin snow.
Etta stood looking over this to the far horizon, where the white snow and the gray sky softly merged into one. Her first remark was characteristic, as first and last remarks usually are.
“And as far as you can see is yours?” she asked.