"
"Ah! And you are French?"
"I am German."
"Impossible!" exclaimed the lady.
"Why impossible?" asked Wilhelm, smiling.
"You have no accent, and you look--"
"You probably think that every German has light blue eyes, flaxen
hair, and a long pipe?"
"That is certainly pretty much how we picture Germans to ourselves
in Spain."
It was his turn to be surprised. "You a Spaniard?"
"And how had you pictured a Spanish lady? Of course with jet black
eyes and hair, and a mantilla?"
Wilhelm nodded.
"There are fair Spaniards, however, as you see. In fact, it is very
common in our best families--an inheritance perhaps from our Gothic
ancestors."
"I suppose, like all Latins, you despise the Germans?"
"I beg, monsieur, that you will not class me with the mass. I wish
to be regarded as an individual. Whatever the prejudices of the
Latins may be, I have my own opinion. Your nationality in a matter
of indifference to me. I only consider the man," and she gave him a
look that sent the blood flaming to his cheek.
The hotel meals were always announced by a bell which could be heard
quite well on the shore. In the heat of their conversation, however,
they did not notice the signal. A lady's maid whom Wilhelm had often
seen at the hotel--a middle-aged, female dragoon with a mustache and
a very stiff and dignified deportment--now came up to the lady and
said:
"Madame la Comtesse did not hear the dinner bell?"
She rose and took Wilhelm's arm without further ado.
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