But she did not dare to do so; she thought it would be rude.
Othmar placed before her some volumes of Doré's illustrations to beguile her time, and rejoined his wife, who was still occupied with the Prince of Lemberg. He was at all times one of her favourites, and he had just come from Vienna, and had many chroniques scandaleuses of that patrician court to tell.
'What is to be done with this unhappy child?' Othmar said to her somewhat sternly. 'She is miserable and dépaysée.'
'I sent you to amuse her,' replied Nadine. 'If you did not——'
'You must allow me to say,' returned Othmar, 'that it was not worthy of you to bring that poor little peasant here, only to neglect her and make her miserable. I should have thought you were too great a lady to commit such a—will you pardon me the word?—such a vulgarity.'
She was not as angry as he had expected; she even smiled; but she remained as indifferent.
'Vulgarity is indeed a terrible charge! I do not think anybody ever brought it against me before. I thought she was very well entertained. I supposed Loswa took care of her. He is responsible for her.'
'No,' said Othmar, 'we are responsible. She is in our house, and she came here by your invitation; on your insistence. There is surely the law of hospitality——'
'Among savages,' said his wife, amused. 'I believe it exists somewhere still on the Red River, or amongst the Red Indians; I am not sure which. We know nothing about it. We only invite people because we think they will amuse us, and we usually find that they do not. I fancied this girl would be amusing, but she is not at all so here. She is dull, and she is frightened.'