Just at the moment the baron and his wife were in the large reception-room, which the decorator was splendidly arranging, under the direction of the baroness, with flowers, festoons, columns, and statues. Ebenstreit was watching admiringly the tasteful and costly display as the footman announced the former book-keeper and present banker, Splittgerber.
“He must come at another time,” cried Ebenstreit, impatiently, “I am busy now; I—”
“Excuse me, baron,” replied an earnest, gentle voice behind him, “that I have followed the lackey and entered unbidden. I come on urgent business, and I must indeed speak with you instantly!”
“Be brief then, at least,” cried Ebenstreit, peevishly. “You see that my wife is here, and we are very busy arranging for a grand dinner to-day.”
Herr Splittgerber, instead of replying, cast a peculiarly sad, searching glance through the beautifully-adorned room, and at the two lackeys, who stood on each side of the wide folding-doors.
“Permit that these servants withdraw, and order them to close the doors,” said the book-keeper, almost commandingly. Ebenstreit, overruled by the solemn earnestness, obeyed against his will.
“Would you like me to leave also, sir?” said Marie, with a calm, haughty manner. “You have only to ask it and the baron will, undoubtedly, accord your request.”
“On the contrary, I beg you to remain,” quietly replied Splittgerber, “for what I have to say concerns you and your husband equally.”
“Now, then, I beg you to say it quickly,” cried Ebenstreit, impatiently; “I repeat, that we are very busy with preparing for to-day’s festival.”
“You will not give any fete to-day,” said Splittgerber, solemnly.