'It is actually twelve!'
'Acknowledge at least that he has made the evening pass well!' said the Princess, with a little petulance and much triumph.
'He has made it pass admirably,' said her niece. 'At the same time, dear aunt, I think it would have been perhaps better if you had not made a friend of a stranger.'
'Why?' said the Princess with some asperity.
'Because I think we can fulfil all the duties of hospitality without doing so, and we know nothing of this gentleman.'
'He is certainly a gentleman,' said the Princess, with not less asperity. 'It seems to me, my dear Wanda, that you are for once in your life—if you will pardon me the expression—ill-natured.'
The Countess Wanda smiled a little.
'I cannot imagine myself ill-natured; but I may be so. One never knows oneself.'
'And ungrateful,' added the Princess. 'When, I should like to know, have you for years reached twelve o'clock at night without being conscious of it?'
'Oh, he sang beautifully, and he played superbly,' said her niece, still with the same smile, balancing her ostrich-feathers. 'But let him go on his way to-morrow; you and I cannot entertain strange men, even though they give us music like Rubenstein's.'