A fit of spasmodic, unnatural laughter shook her from the tip of her
lace parasol to the toes of her small slippers, causing such a
convulsion in the lap-dog's mind that he sat up on her knees and joined
his cries with hers, until he had succeeded in attracting her
attention, when he was instantly caressed and kissed and petted, with
expressions of the greatest anxiety for his comfort. In about thirty
seconds, however, the noises suddenly ceased, Pretzel went to sleep
again and his mistress sat looking at the swallows and the flitting
butterflies, her weary features expressing nothing that could be
connected with mirth, any more than if she had not laughed for years.
The repose could not last long, but Greifenstein felt that it was
refreshing. In five and twenty years of married life, by dint of never
exhibiting any annoyance at his wife's way of expressing herself, he
had grown hardened against the disturbing effect of her smile and voice
until he was really very little affected by either. So far as her
conduct was concerned, he had never had anything to complain of, and
since he had chosen her of his own free will, he considered that one
part of his duty consisted in suffering her eccentricities with
patience and calm. The idea that a German who called himself a
gentleman should not do his duty never entered his mind. On the other
hand, his imperturbable manner sometimes irritated his wife, and in
justice to her it must be allowed that his conversation in her presence
was often very constrained.

'The next time you come to Greifenstein,' he said, leaning forward
again and speaking to his cousin, 'it will be on the occasion of a very
happy event.'

'Yes,' answered Frau von Sigmundskron with her gentle smile, 'I hope
so.'