"Yes," replied Gertrude, "he was with them at the Italian lakes for a month." And then as if she had only just taken in his whole meaning,--"How glad I am that mamma is coming out here at once! Ah, uncle, if she would only get reconciled to Frank!"
"Eh, what? Gertrude, don't distress yourself, it will all come right. Besides he is not a man to put up with much nonsense!"
"What could this Wolff have wanted with him?"
"Hm! what are they about in Heaven's name?" asked her uncle, impatiently.
"Hungry? How can you use such common expressions? A dish of pork and beans would suffice for hunger. I have an appetite, my child. O, ta, ta, the asparagus will be spoiled if those two stay so long in their room."
It was a very cosy group that Mrs. Baumhagen's eyes rested on as she, with Jenny and Arthur, mounted the veranda steps.
They were sitting over their dessert, and Uncle Henry, with his napkin in his buttonhole, his champagne-glass in his hand, shouted out a stentorious "welcome!" while the young host and hostess hurried down the steps, Gertrude with crimson cheeks. She was so proud, so happy.
Mrs. Baumhagen looked at her daughter in amazement. The pale, quiet girl had become as blooming as a rose. "It is the honeymoon still," she said to herself, and her eyes never ceased to follow her youngest child during the whole time of her stay.
The coffee-table was set out under the chestnuts. It was a beautiful spot. The eye glanced over the green lawn, past the magnificent trees to the quaint old dwelling-house with its high gables and its ivy-grown walls. The doors of the garden-hall stood open, and from the flagstaff fluttered gayly a black-and-white flag.
"An idyll like a picture by Voss," laughed the little judge.
The young host gallantly escorted his mother-in-law through the garden. Every cloud had vanished from his brow, he was cheerful and agreeable.
"But very sure of himself," Jenny remarked, later, to her mother. "He feels himself quite the host and master of the house."
The uncomfortable feeling which he had always had in his mother-in-law's presence, had disappeared. To her amazement he permitted himself once or twice quite calmly to contradict her. Arthur had never dared to do that. And Gertrude, how ridiculous! while she presided over the coffee in her calm way, her eyes were continually turning to him as soon as he spoke. "As you like, Frank,"--"What do you think, Frank?" etc. And when her mother hoped Gertrude would not fail to call on her Aunt Pauline on her birthday, the next day, she asked appealingly, "Can I, Frank? Can I have the carriage?"