Karl, the waiter, felt bound to rouse these abstracted guests, and
stimulate their appetites. He affected, therefore, to look on them as
people who had not yet breakfasted, and tripped up to Mr. Ashmead with a
bill of fare, rather scanty.

The busiest Englishman can eat, and Ashmead had no objection to snatch a
mouthful; he gave his order in German with an English accent. But the
lady, when appealed to, said softly, in pure German, "I will wait for the
_table-d'hote."_

"The _table-d'hote!_ It wants four hours to that."

The lady looked Karl full in the face, and said, slowly, and very
distinctly, "Then, I--will--wait--four--hours."

These simple words, articulated firmly, and in a contralto voice of
singular volume and sweetness, sent Karl skipping; but their effect on
Mr. Ashmead was more remarkable. He started up from his chair with an
exclamation, and bent his eyes eagerly on the melodious speaker. He could
only see her back hair and her figure; but, apparently, this quick-eared
gentleman had also quick eyes, for he said aloud, in English, "Her hair,
too--it must be;" and he came hurriedly toward her. She caught a word or
two, and turned and saw him. "Ah!" said she, and rose; but the points of
her fingers still rested on the book.

"It is!" cried Ashmead. "It is!"

"Yes, Mr. Ashmead," said the lady, coloring a little, but in pure
English, and with a composure not easily disturbed; "it is Ina Klosking."