There was a sense of hurry in the
dusty air. The Emperor had arrived, and the magic of his name
lifted men out of themselves. It seemed nothing extraordinary to
Desiree that her life should be taken up by this whirlwind, and
carried on she knew not whither.
At dinner-time Charles had not returned. Antoine Sebastian dined at
half-past four, in the manner of Northern Europe; but his daughters
provided his table with the lighter meats of France, which he
preferred to the German cuisine. Sebastian's dinner was an event in
the day, though he ate sparingly enough, and found a mental rather
than a physical pleasure in the ceremonious sequence of courses.
It was now too late to think of going to Zoppot. After dinner
Mathilde and Desiree prepared the rooms which had been destined for
the occupation of the married pair after the honeymoon.
"We shall have to omit Zoppot, that is all," said Desiree
cheerfully, and fell to unpacking the bridal clothes which had been
so merrily laid in the trunks.
At half-past six a soldier brought a hurried note from Charles.
"I cannot return to-night, as I am about to start for Konigsberg,"
he wrote. "It is a commission which I could not refuse if I wished
to. You, I know, would have me go and do my duty."
There was more which Desiree did not read aloud. Charles had always
found it easy enough to tell Desiree how much he loved her, and was
gaily indifferent to the ears of others.
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