“That is, undoubtedly, the general’s wife,” said Trude, shaking her head. “She rings as if she would announce the king, with her nose turned up so high, or as if she were the money-sacks of her son-in-law!”
Trude was right; her shrill voice was heard ordering the steward, who had but just arrived. “It is abominable, it is unheard of!” she cried, as with a heavy push she burst open the door; “this man presumes to contradict me, and—ah, there you are, Trude!”
“Here I am,” she answered; “were you looking for me?”
“Yes, and I would ask you if my orders are not the same as if given by Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen or his wife, or have you instructed the new steward otherwise, which, it is laughable to say, you have engaged?”
“No, I have not instructed him thus. Dear Marie has not ordered it in her letter.”
“Dear Marie,” repeated Frau von Werrig. “How can you permit yourself to speak so intimately of the rich Baroness von Ebenstreit?”
“Very true, it is not right,” sighed Trude; “I beg pardon.”
“I came here to see if every thing was in readiness, and ordered the steward to ornament the doors and corridors with garlands of flowers; he has had the boldness to tell me he dares not do it!”
“He is right, Frau von Leuthen. Baroness Ebenstreit von Leuthen (have I got the title right?) wrote and expressly forbade any festivity to greet her arrival. Here is the letter—I carry it around with me; I will read it to you: ‘I expressly forbid any manifestation whatever to be made at our return, whether of garlands or flowers, as they are only hypocrisy and falsehood. I wish no one there to receive me—remember, Trude, no one! Inform my family that, as soon as I have recovered from the fatigue of the journey, I will make them the visit of duty with the baron.’”
“What cold, heartless words are these! One could hardly believe that a daughter was writing of her parents.”