“Leave the room, Jean,” said Wilhelmine, who, impelled perhaps by curiosity, gave himself the appearance of being busily occupied in arranging the room.
“No, my dear wife,” said Rietz, beckoning to the servant, “have the goodness to permit Jean to remain a moment until I have given him my orders.—Jean, I am hungry, and feel an irresistible inclination to eat. Bring me something enjoyable, right away—for instance, a goose-liver pie, or a pheasant, or both. You can also bring some caviar and a piece of venison. And then have a bottle of champagne brought up and placed on ice; it is abominably warm to-day, and I need something cooling. Be quick, Jean.”
The servant made no reply, but looked inquiringly at his mistress. Rietz caught this look, and laughed loudly. “I really believe this simpleton entertains the daring idea of not obeying me, his master!”
“Excuse me, sir,” murmured the servant, timidly, “but my services were engaged by this lady.”
“Yes, certainly; but you well know, you rascal, that I am the master, and that this lady is my wife, and—”
“Enough,” interrupted Wilhelmine, gravely. “Set the table in the dining-room, Jean, and be quick!”
“Well spoken, Wilhelmine; let me kiss you for it, my treasure!” cried Rietz, walking with extended arms toward his wife, while the servant was opening the door. But the door had scarcely closed when he let his arms fall, and recoiled timidly from Wilhelmine, who stood before him with flashing eyes.
“Sir,” said she, her voice trembling with anger; “sir, I forbid you to take such liberties, and use such familiar language in the presence of my servant.”
“But, madame,” replied Rietz, smiling, “it is only in the presence of your servant that I can use such language; and it seems to me that it suits my rôle very well. I have the honor to figure before the world as your husband, consequently I should play my rôle respectably before men, and prove that we are a happy and contented pair. The wickedness and malice of mankind are great; and if men should observe that I spoke to you with less tenderness, your enemies would certainly spread the report, that we were living together unhappily.”