[THE SISTERS.]
The two Fräulein Dornau, with their mother, occupied the first floor of a small house in the suburbs; it was a very modest dwelling, cramped, with low windows. The paper in the reception-room, whose silver had gradually faded completely, while some of the showy purple strips which gave a gorgeous appearance to the tiny space between ceiling and floor, had become loose above or below, and played about freely in any chance current of air.
The sofa had enveloped itself shamefacedly in the sister's artistic crochet work, seat back and side cushions were covered with every variety of imaginary figures and arabesques. The venerable piece of furniture beneath would have disclosed a most deteriorated colour to the light of the sun, and the marvellous pliability of its stuffing inspired all who were obliged to seat themselves upon the place of honour with sudden terror.
The pride of the room was a writing desk of mahogany. It is well known that that wood possesses the same quality as good wine and good poetry, that its merits increase the older it becomes. The secretaire did indeed gleam in darkest brilliancy, it was only to be regretted that the effect of this show piece was sadly dimmed by several cracks in the wood, by one foot which had thoughtlessly loosened its connection with the organism of the whole, and from its crooked posture had given a sloping inclination to the desk, and by several ornamentations being broken off, which instead of forming the crown of the work, lay in melancholy ruins upon its summit.
The Dornau family was not blind to the shady side of its domestic arrangements; for many years these had been the subject of daily conversation; the necessity to send for the cabinet-maker and paperer was often discussed over the morning coffee, but always forgotten again under the pressure of circumstances. Sometimes the condition of their financial affairs did not permit of any extraordinary outlay.
The reception-room was merely divided by a curtain from the young ladies' boudoir, which left nothing to be wished for as regards cosiness, and only contained one little arm chair and two book shelves. The owners were therefore generally to be found in the front or reception-room, which served also as dining and work-room.
Thus they sat again to-day at a work-table, and looked into the street. Frau Dornau was busy in the kitchen.
"You have told me but little of Italy so far," said Olga. "You are very sparing with your communications."
"Everything can be found in guide-books," replied Cäcilie.
"But where were you after you left Nice? Our correspondence at that time came to a standstill for several months."