nd this little action had the effect of putting a stop
to the conversation. Maggie had plenty to say to Steinmetz, but toward
Paul her mental attitude was different. She was probably unaware of this
little fact.

"There," she said, after a pause, "I have obeyed Etta's instructions.
She does not want us to begin, I suppose?"

"No," replied Paul. "She will be down in a minute."

"I hope the princess is not overtired," said Steinmetz, with a certain
formal politeness which seemed to accompany any mention of Etta's name.

"Not at all, thank you," replied Etta herself, coming into the room at
that moment. She looked fresh and self-confident. "On the contrary, I am
full of energy and eagerness to explore the castle. One naturally takes
an interest in one's baronial halls."

With this she walked slowly across to the window. She stood there
looking out, and every one in the room was watching. On looking for the
first time on the same view, a few moments earlier, Maggie had uttered a
little cry of surprise, and had then remained silent. Etta looked out of
the window and said nothing. It was a most singular out-look--weird,
uncouth, prehistoric, as some parts of the earth still are. The castle
was built on the edge of a perpendicular cliff. On this side it was
impregnable. Any object dropped from the breakfast-room window would
fall a clear two hundred feet to the brawling Oster River. The rock was
black, and shining like the topmost crags of an Alpine mountain where
snow and ice have polished the bare stone. Beyond and across the river
lay the boundless steppe--a sheet of virgin snow.

Etta stood looking over this to the far horizon, where the white snow
and the gray sky softly merged into one. Her first remark was
characteristic, as first and last remarks usually are.

"And as far as you can see is yours?" she asked.

"Yes," answered Paul simply, with that calm which only comes with
hereditary possession.

The observation attracted Steinmetz's attention. He went to another
window, and looked across the waste critically.

"Four times as far as we can see is his," he said.

Etta looked out slowly and comprehensively, absorbing it all like a
long, sweet drink. There was no hereditary calmness in her sense of
possession.

"And where is Thors?" she asked.

Paul stretched out his arm, pointing with a lean, steady finger:

"It lies out there," he answered.

Another of the little incidents that are only half forgotten