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〃I suppose that is it。 There are so many other things〃
〃There should be nothing else；〃 said Harz。
She broke in： 〃I don't want always to be thinking of myself。
Suppose〃
〃Ah！ When you begin supposing！〃
The girl confronted him； she had torn the sketch again。
〃You mean that if it does not matter enough； one had better not do it
at all。 I don't know if you are rightI think you are。〃
There was the sound of a nervous cough； and Harz saw behind him his
three visitorsMiss Naylor offering him her hand； Greta； flushed；
with a bunch of wild flowers； staring intently in his face； and the
terrier； sniffing at his trousers。
Miss Naylor broke an awkward silence。
〃We wondered if you would still be here； Christian。 I am sorry to
interrupt youI was not aware that you knew Mr。Herr〃
〃Harz is my namewe were just talking〃
〃About my sketch。 Oh； Greta； you do tickle！ Will you come and have
breakfast with us to…day； Herr Harz？ It's our turn； you know。〃
Harz； glancing at his dusty clothes； excused himself。
But Greta in a pleading voice said： 〃Oh！ do come！ Scruff likes you。
It is so dull when there is nobody for breakfast but ourselves。〃
Miss Naylor's mouth began to twist。 Harz hurriedly broke in：
〃Thank you。 I will come with pleasure； you don't mind my being
dirty？〃
〃Oh no！ we do not mind； then we shall none of us wash； and afterwards
I shall show you my rabbits。〃
Miss Naylor； moving from foot to foot； like a bird on its perch；
exclaimed：
〃I hope you won't regret it； not a very good mealthe girls are so
impulsivesuch informal invitation； we shall be very glad。〃
But Greta pulled softly at her sister's sleeve； and Christian；
gathering her things； led the way。
Harz followed in amazement； nothing of this kind had come into his
life before。 He kept shyly glancing at the girls； and； noting the
speculative innocence in Greta's eyes； he smiled。 They soon came to
two great poplar…trees； which stood； like sentinels； one on either
side of an unweeded gravel walk leading through lilac bushes to a
house painted dull pink； with green…shuttered windows； and a roof of
greenish slate。 Over the door in faded crimson letters were written
the words； 〃Villa Rubein。〃
〃That is to the stables；〃 said Greta； pointing down a path； where
some pigeons were sunning themselves on a wall。 〃Uncle Nic keeps his
horses there： Countess and Cuckoohis horses begin with C； because
of Christhey are quite beautiful。 He says he could drive them to
Kingdom…Come and they would not turn their hair。 Bow； and say 'Good…
morning' to our house！〃
Harz bowed。
〃Father said all strangers should； and I think it brings good luck。〃
》From the doorstep she looked round at Harz； then ran into the house。
A broad； thick…set man； with stiff； brushed…up hair； a short； brown；
bushy beard parted at the chin； a fresh complexion； and blue glasses
across a thick nose； came out； and called in a bluff voice：
〃Ha！ my good dears； kiss me quickprrt！ How goes it then this
morning？ A good walk； hein？〃 The sound of many loud rapid kisses
followed。
〃Ha； Fraulein； good！〃 He became aware of Harz's figure standing in
the doorway： 〃Und der Herr？〃
Miss Naylor hurriedly explained。
〃Good！ An artist！ Kommen Sie herein； I am delight。 You will
breakfast？ I tooyes； yes； my dearsI too breakfast with you this
morning。 I have the hunter's appetite。〃
Harz； looking at him keenly； perceived him to be of middle height and
age； stout； dressed in a loose holland jacket； a very white； starched
shirt； and blue silk sash； that he looked particularly clean； had an
air of belonging to Society； and exhaled a really fine aroma of
excellent cigars and the best hairdresser's essences。
The room they entered was long and rather bare； there was a huge map
on the wall； and below it a pair of globes on crooked supports；
resembling two inflated frogs erect on their hind legs。 In one
corner was a cottage piano； close to a writing…table heaped with
books and papers； this nook； sacred to Christian； was foreign to the
rest of the room； which was arranged with supernatural neatness。 A
table was laid for breakfast； and the sun…warmed air came in through
French windows。
The meal went merrily； Herr Paul von Morawitz was never in such
spirits as at table。 Words streamed from him。 Conversing with Harz；
he talked of Art as who should say： 〃One does not claim to be a
connoisseurpas si betestill； one has a little knowledge； que
diable！〃 He recommended him a man in the town who sold cigars that
were 〃not so very bad。〃 He consumed porridge； ate an omelette； and
bending across to Greta gave her a sounding kiss； muttering： 〃Kiss me
quick！〃an expression he had picked up in a London music…hall； long
ago； and considered chic。 He asked his daughters' plans； and held
out porridge to the terrier； who refused it with a sniff。
〃Well；〃 he said suddenly； looking at Miss Naylor； 〃here is a
gentleman who has not even heard our names！〃
The little lady began her introductions in a breathless voice。
〃Good！〃 Herr Paul said； puffing out his lips： 〃Now we know each
other！〃 and； brushing up the ends of his moustaches； he carried off
Harz into another room； decorated with pipe…racks； prints of dancing…
girls； spittoons； easy…chairs well…seasoned by cigar smoke； French
novels； and newspapers。
The household at Villa Rubein was indeed of a mixed and curious
nature。 Cut on both floors by corridors； the Villa was divided into
four divisions； each of which had its separate inhabitants； an
arrangement which had come about in the following way：
When old Nicholas Treffry died； his estate； on the boundary of
Cornwall； had been sold and divided up among his three surviving
childrenNicholas； who was much the eldest； a partner in the well…
known firm of Forsyte and Treffry； teamen； of the Strand； Constance；
married to a man called Decie； and Margaret； at her father's death
engaged to the curate of the parish； John Devorell； who shortly
afterwards became its rector。 By his marriage with Margaret Treffry
the rector had one child called Christian。 Soon after this he came
into some property； and died； leaving it unfettered to his widow。
Three years went by； and when the child was six years old； Mrs。
Devorell； still young and pretty； came to live in London with her
brother Nicholas。 It was there that she met Paul von Morawitzthe
last of an old Czech family； who had lived for many hundred years on
their estates near Budweiss。 Paul had been left an orphan at the age
of ten； and without a solitary ancestral acre。 Instead of acres； he
inherited the faith that nothing was too good for a von Morawitz。 In
later years his savoir faire enabled him to laugh at faith； but it
stayed quietly with him all the same。 The absence of acres was of no
great consequence； for through his mother； the daughter of a banker
i