"And the lovely Paula's origin retreats still further into obscurity," Wenkendorf says, with well-bred resignation.
"She is old Harfink's great-grand-daughter," says Zdena, joining for the first time in the conversation.
"Old Harfink had two sons," continues the major, who hates to have the end of his stories told prematurely; "two sons who developed social ambition, and both married cultivated wives,--wives who looked down upon them, and with whom they could not agree. If I do not mistake, there was a sister, too. Tell me, Rosel, was there not a sister who married an Italian?"
"I do not know," replies Frau Rosamunda. "The intricacies of the Harfink genealogy never inspired me with the faintest interest."
The major bites his lip.
"One thing more," says Wenkendorf. "How have you managed to avoid an acquaintance with the Harfinks for so long, if the family has belonged to the country here for several generations?"
"Harfink number two never lived here," the major explains. "And they owned the iron-mines, but no estate. Only last year the widow Harfink bought Dobrotschau,--gallery of ancestral portraits, old suits of armour, and all. The mines have been sold to a stock company."
"Not a very pleasing neighbourhood, I should say," observes Wenkendorf.
"'Surprise you with the revelation of a secret,'" Frau Rosamunda reads, thoughtfully, in a low tone from the note beside her plate.
And then all rise from table. Zdena, who has been silent during breakfast, twitches her uncle's sleeve, and, without looking at him, says,--