“I regret that I cannot fulfil this hope,” said the sneering voice of the prebendary. “I am now here with the full conviction that I shall never be able to reenter this reception-room; hence I am determined not to shrink back from any thing and not to be turned away in so disgraceful a manner. I know that the baroness is at home, and I came hither in order to satisfy myself whether the common report is really true that the baroness, who has always treated me with so much virtuous rigor and discouraging coldness, is more indulgent and less inexorable toward another, and whether I have really a more fortunate rival!”
“I hope that I am this more fortunate rival,” said Baron Arnstein, gently.
“Oh, no, sir,” exclaimed the prebendary, laughing scornfully. “A husband
never is the rival of his wife’s admirers. If you were with your wife
and turned me away, I should not object to it at all, and I should wait
for a better chance. But what keeps me here is the fact that another
admirer of hers is with her, that she has given orders to admit nobody
else, and that you, more kind-hearted than myself, seem to believe that
the baroness is not at home.”
“This impudence surpasses belief,” exclaimed the prince, in great
exasperation.
“Yes,” said Fanny, gloomily, “the Christian prebendary gives full vent to his disdain for the Jewish banker. It always affords a great satisfaction to Christian love to humble the Jew and to trample him in the dust. And the Jew is accustomed to being trampled upon in this manner. My husband, too, gives proof of this enviable quality of our tribe. Just listen how calm and humble his voice remains, all the while every tone of the other is highly insulting to him!”
“He shall not insult him any longer,” said the prince, ardently; “I will—but what is that? Did he not mention my name?”
And he went closer to the door, in order to listen in breathless suspense.
“And I repeat to you, baron,” said the voice of the prebendary, sneeringly, “your wife is at home, and the young Prince von Lichtenstein is with her. I saw him leave his palace and followed him; half an hour ago, I saw him enter your house, and I went into the coffee-house opposite for the purpose of making my observations. I know, therefore, positively, that the prince has not yet left your house. As he is not with you, he is with your wife, and this being the usual hour for the baroness to receive morning calls, I have just as good a right as anybody else to expect that she will admit me.”
“And suppose I tell you that she will not admit you to-day?”
“Then I shall conclude that the baroness is in her boudoir with the Prince von Lichtenstein, and that she does not want to be disturbed,” shouted the voice of the prebendary. “Yes, sir; in that case I shall equally lament my fate and yours, for both of us are deceived and deprived of sweet hopes. Both of us will have a more fortunate rival in this petty prince—in this conceited young dandy, who even now believes he is a perfect Adonis, and carries his ludicrous presumption so far as to believe that he can outstrip men of ability and merit by his miserable little title and by his boyish face—”
“Why is it necessary for you to shout all this so loudly?” asked the anxious voice of the baron.