Despite
the historical bill of fare, and the mildly exhilarating qualities of
the excellent Oberweseler wine, whose delicate reddish color the
sentimental Archbishop compared to the blush on a bride's cheeks, the
social aspect of the midday refection was overshadowed by an almost
indefinable sense of impending danger. In the pseudogenial conversation
of the two Archbishops there was something forced: the attitude of the
elderly hostess was one of unrelieved gloom. After a few conventional
greetings to her young guest, she spoke no more during the meal. Her
daughter, who sat beside the Countess on the opposite side of the table
from his Lordship of Cologne, merely answered "Yes" or "No" to the
comments of the lady of Sayn praising the romantic situation of the
Castle, its unique qualities of architecture, and the splendid outlook
from its battlements, eulogies which began enthusiastically enough, but
finally faded away into silence, chilled by a reception so unfriendly.
Thus cast back upon her own thoughts, the girl grew more and more uneasy
as the peculiar features of the occasion became clearer in her own mind.
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