Richard.
I beg your pardon. I wasn't thinking. (He helps himself to the dish.)
Beata.
You must know that that pie is an invention of my own!
Prince.
Dear me, Countess, are you at home in every branch of learning?
Beata.
Oh, I had the making of a great cook in me. I believe I'm the last of the old school--the model housekeeper, the domestic wife, the high-priestess of the family! (She goes on laughing excitedly and Michael nervously echoes her laugh.)
Richard.
(Making a perceptible effort to change the conversation.) My dear Countess, no one ever ventures to dispute your statements. But there is one family about which I want to say a word and that is the one we are in. (Rising.) I drink to the house of Kellinghausen!