"Is it true?" asks Treurenberg, who cannot rid himself of the idea that the mischievous lieutenant is jesting. And Harry replies, as calmly as possible,--
"It is not yet announced. I am still awaiting my father's consent. He is abroad."
"Ah!"
The lieutenant pours out a thimbleful of brandy from the flask on the table, mixes it with seltzer-water and sugar, and, raising it to his lips, says, gravely, "To the health of your betrothed, Leskjewitsch,--of your sister-in-law, Treurenberg."
"This, then, was the news of which my mother-in-law made such mysterious mention in her last letters," Lato murmurs. "This is the surprise of which she spoke. I--I hope it will turn out well," he adds, with a sigh.
Harry tries to smile. From the adjoining billiard-room come the voices of two players in an eager dispute. The malicious lieutenant pricks up his ears, and departs for the scene of action with the evident intention of egging on the combatants.
"Lato," Harry asks, clearing his throat, "how do you mean to get home? I have my drag here, and I can drop you at Dobrotschau. Or will you drive to Komaritz with me?"
"With the greatest pleasure," Treurenberg assents. "How glad I shall be to see the old place again!"
He is just making ready for departure, when several officers drop in at the Casino, almost all of them old friends of his. They surround him, shake hands with him, and will not let him go.
"Can you wait a quarter of an hour for me?" he asks his friend.