A wooden butler was bowing himself to the floor. "The Herr Professor Doctor Polonius Holtzenschuer," he announced grandly.
A dapper young man with trim mustaches and spotless boots advanced into the room.
The girl by the window swayed a breath. The clear color had mounted in her cheek.
The old woman waited, immovable. Her hands were clasped above the stout cane and her bead-like eyes surveyed the advancing figure.
At two yards' distance it paused. The heels came together with a swift click. He bowed in military salute.
The old woman achieved a stiff courtesy and waited. The dim eyes peered at him shrewdly.
"I have the honor to pay my respects to the Baroness von Herkomer," said the young man, with deep politeness.
The baroness assented gruffly. She seated herself on a large divan, facing the picture, and motioned with her knotted hand to the seat beside her.
The young man accepted it deferentially. His eyes were on a bowed head, framed in shadows and leaves across the room.
"I trust Fräulein Marie is well?" he said promptly.