"You wait upon me yourself?" he asked. "I am served like the gods!"
She had waited upon a great many people, but none of them had ever told her that. The observation added a certain lightness to the step with which she went to a little table where there were some curious red glasses--glasses covered with little gold sprigs, which Charlotte used to dust every morning with her own hands.
Gertrude thought the glasses very handsome, and it was a pleasure to her to know that the wine was good; it was her father's famous madeira.
Felix Young thought it excellent; he wondered why he had been told that there was no wine in America. She cut him an immense triangle out of the cake, and again she thought of Mr. Brand.
Felix sat there, with his glass in one hand and his huge morsel of cake in the other--eating, drinking, smiling, talking. "I am very hungry," he said. "I am not at all tired; I am never tired.
But I am very hungry."
"You must stay to dinner," said Gertrude. "At two o'clock. They will all have come back from church; you will see the others."
"Who are the others?" asked the young man. "Describe them all."
"You will see for yourself. It is you that must tell me; now, about your sister."
"My sister is the Baroness Munster," said Felix.
On hearing that his sister was a Baroness, Gertrude got up and walked about slowly, in front of him. She was silent a moment.
She was thinking of it. "Why did n't she come, too?" she asked.
"She did come; she is in Boston, at the hotel."
"We will go and see her," said Gertrude, looking at him.
"She begs you will not!" the young man replied.
"She sends you her love; she sent me to announce her.
She will come and pay her respects to your father."