Court matters, then on little Princess Philippine's progress, and later almost exclusively on Prince Philipp's commercial schemes. The quiet little man talked about his breweries, factories, and mills, and in particular about his peat-cuttings. He described various improvements in the machinery, quoted figures of capital invested and returns, and his cheeks glowed, while his wife's relations listened to him with looks of curiosity, approval, or mockery.
When coffee had been served in the big flower-room, the Princess, holding her gilded cup, went up to her brother and said: "You have quite deserted us lately, Klaus Heinrich."
Ditlinde's face with the Grimmburg cheekbones was not so transparent as it had once been. It had gained more colour since the birth of her daughter, and her head seemed to be less oppressed by the weight of her fair hair.
"Have I deserted you?" he said. "Forgive me, Ditlinde, perhaps I have. But there were so many calls on my time, and I knew that there were on yours too; for you are no longer confined to flowers."
"True, the flowers have had to take a less prominent place, they don't get much thought from me now. A fairer life and flowering now occupies all my time. I believe that's where I have got my red cheeks from, like dear Philipp from his peat (he ought not to have talked about it the whole of luncheon, as he did ; but it's his hobby), and it is because I was so busy and rushed that I was not cross with you for never showing yourself and for going your own way, even though that way seemed to me rather a surprising one."
"Do you know what it is, Ditlinde?"
"Yes, though unfortunately not from you. But Jettchen Isenschnibbe has kept me well posted—you know she is always a fund of news—and at first I was horribly shocked, I don't deny it. But after all they live in Delphinenort,
