The Countess, her eyes half closed, measured him haughtily. "With whom have I the pleasure ...?"
"Conte Capriani."
The Countess silently shrugged her shoulders, and turning half away, called in an irritated tone, "Are we ready to go at last, Ossi?...."
A whirling cloud of dust was soon the only trace left of the bustle of the arrival.
The short drive was spent by Truyn in reminiscences, by the betrothed pair in sentiment.
At the tea, which was awaiting the travellers, and of which the Lodrin's stayed to partake, there was much laughter over the chic of the Caprianis, over their wealth, and--their obtrusiveness. Oswald suddenly grew thoughtful.
"Did you ever before meet these people, mamma?" he asked.
"I never knew any Conte Capriani in my life,--who are these Caprianis?" asked the Countess.
"Nobody knows," said Oswald. "Some say he is a Greek, some that he comes from Marseilles, and others that he is a Turk."
"They are all wrong," Georges said drily, "he comes originally from Bohemia; he was formerly a physician, and his name was Stein."