The count went forward to meet the prince, who deigned not the smallest apology for having kept the guests waiting a whole hour.
They repaired to the dining-room, where a costly and luxurious dinner made amends to the company for their protracted fast.
Kaunitz, however, took no notice of these delicate viands. He ate his own dinner, and was served by his own lackeys.
"Your highness," said his neighbor, the Princess Esterhazy, "you should taste this pate a la Soubise, it is delicious."
"Who knows what abominable ingredients may not have gone into its composition?" said Kaunitz. "I might poison myself if I tasted the villanous compound. It is all very well for ordinary people to eat from other men's kitchens. If they die the ranks close up and nobody misses them; but I owe my life to Austria and to Europe. Eat your pate a la Soubise, if it suit you; I eat nothing but viands a la Kaunitz, and I trust to no cook but my own."
It was the same with the Tokay, the Johannisberg and the Champagne. Kaunitz affected not to see them, while one of his lackeys reached him a glass of water on a golden salver. Kaunitz held it up to the light. "How dare you bring me water from the count's fountain?" said he, with a threatening look.
"Indeed, your highness," stammered the frightened servant, "I drew it myself from your highness's own fountain."
"How," laughed the Princess Esterhazy, "you bring your water, too?"
"Yes, madame, I do, for it is the purest water in Vienna, and I have already told you that my health is of the first importance to Austria. Bread, Baptiste!"
Baptiste was behind the chair, with a golden plate, on which lay two or three slices of bread, which he presented.