Sophie spoke in a sullen voice: “This is Miss Wayness Tamm, Your Ladyship. She says that she has an appointment with you.”
Countess Ottilie ignored Wayness. “Where have you been? I called you, to no avail!”
''I was answering the door.'
'Indeed! You took your time about it! Where is Lenk, who should look after such things? “
“Madame Lenk’s back was taken bad this morning. Mr. Lenk is applying a salve.'
'That is all pooh-bah! Madame Lenk always chooses to suffer at the most inconvenient times! Meanwhile I am not attended! I might as well be a bird on the fence, or the painting in a picture!”
'Sorry, Your Ladyship.”
'The tea was thin and barely warm! What of that?'
Sophle's round face became sullener than ever. 'I did not brew the tea; I only brought it out!'
“Take the pot away, and bring out a fresh pot on the instant!'
“It won’t be on the instant,' said Sophie grimly. 'You'll have to wait, like anyone else, while it steeps.'
Countess Ottilie face became mottled and she prodded the lawn with her cane. Sophie took the tray with the cup and teapot. In so doing, she trod on the tail of one of the dogs, which uttered a shrill cry. Sophie also cried out, jerked backwards and dropped the tray; pot and cup fell to the lawn, with a few drops splashing on Countess Ottilie’s hand, which caused her to bellow a hoarse curse. 'You have scalded me!” She swung her cane but Sophie already had jumped back and trusted her pelvis to the side, so that the cane struck only empty air. “I thought you said the tea was cold!' Sophie called. Countess Ottilie had sprained her wrist, and was more vexed than ever. “Ah, you slut, to stamp poor Mikki, and then feign innocence! It is monstrous! Come here at once!'
''So you can beat me? Never!'
The Countess struggled to her feet and swung the cane again, but Sophie, dancing back a safe distance, stuck her tongue out at Countess Ottilie. “That is what I think of you, stupid old crow that you are!'
Countess Ottilie panted, “As of this instant you are discharged! Leave at once!”
Sophie marched off two paces, then, bending, flung up her skirts to show Countess Ottilie the expanse of her buttocks, then strolled triumphantly away.
Wayness stood to the side, shocked, worried and amused. She came cautiously forward, picked up tray, pot and cup and set them on the table. The Countess glared at her. 'Go! I have no need for you either.”
“If you wish, but I had an appointment to see you at this time.'
'Hmf.' Countess Ottilie settled back into her chair. 'Naturally you want something of me, like all the rest!'
Wayness saw that she had not made an auspicious beginning. “It is a pity that you have been disturbed. Should I come back when you have had time to rest?”
'Rest? It is not I who needs rest; it is poor little Mikki with his sore tall. Mikki? Where are you?'
Wayness peered underneath the chair. “He seems to be doing quite nicely.”
“Then that is one worry I am spared.” She examined Wayness coldly, with eyes behind folds and layers of loose skin, like the eyes of a turtle. “Now that you are here, what do you want? I think Baron Stam said something about botany?'
'Yes, that is correct. Count Raul, of course, was well known in the field and some of his findings have never been fully documented. With your permission, I would like to look over his papers. I will cause you as little inconvenience as possible.”
Countess Ottilie set her lips in a hard line. “Botany was another of Count Raul's expensive triflings. He knew a thousand ways to spend money. They called him a philanthropist, but he was something else: he was a fool!'
'Surely not!' said Wayness, once again shocked.
Countess Ottilie tapped the lawn with her cane. “That is my opinion. You are convinced otherwise?”
“Of course not! But — '
“We were never left in peace because of whiners and solicitors. Each day would see more of them, with their big teeth and unctuous grins. Worst of all was the Nature Society.”
“The Naturalist Society?”
“Those are the ones! I detest the sound of the name: They were beggars, thieves, carnivores! They never desisted, never relented; always a plea here and a wheedle there! Would you believe it? One time they wanted to build a grand palace for their comfort upon our ancient lands!”
'Extraordinary!' said Wayness, feeling a hypocrite and a traitor. “Incredible!'
'I set them right, I can tell you! They got nothing!'
Greatly daring, Wayness said thoughtfully: ''Count Raul did some very interesting work on Naturalist Society data. Do you know of any papers pertaining to the Naturalist Society?”
'Nothing! Have I not described these people? I emptied the file into a box and sent it away where I will never be reminded of money spent so foolishly.'
Wayness smiled in polite agreement. The interview was going poorly. “As for me, I will cost you nothing, and in the end the Count's reputation may well be enhanced.”
Countess Ottilie made a scornful sound. “Reputation? A joke! I care nothing for my own, even less for that of Count Raul.”
Wayness forged grimly ahead. 'Still, Count Raul's name is honored at the university. No doubt he owes much of his stature to your encouragement.'
“No doubt.'
“Perhaps then I might dedicate my thesis to “Count Raul and Countess Ottilie de Flamanges!'
“As you like. If that is all you came for, you may go.'
Wayness ignored the remark. “Count Raul kept records of his collections and acquisitions, as well as his researches?”
'Of course. If nothing else, he was meticulous.”
“I would like to look through his records, so that I might clear up certain puzzles.'
'Impossible. We keep such things locked up nowadays.”
Refusal was no more than Wayness had been expecting. “It would of course be in the interests of science, and of course I would be helped in my career. I assure you that I would be no trouble to you.'
Countess Ottilie prodded the lawn with her cane. 'Not another word! Yonder is the gate; go the way you have come, and at once!'
Wayness hesitated, reluctant to accept so devastating a defeat. 'May I come again, when you are feeling better?'
Countess Ottilie stood erect, showing herself to be a woman taller than Wayness had assumed. 'Did you not hear me? I want none of you about, prying and picking, always reaching with your fingers, nibbling at my things.'
Wayness turned away and marched in a rage of her own to the gate.
The time was noon. Wayness stood in the road outside the gates to Mirky Porod, waiting for the omnibus which, according to the schedule, passed each hour. She looked up the road; no bus was in sight and no sound could be heard save the singing of insects Wayness went to sit on a stone bench. Her circumstances were more or less as she had expected them to be; nevertheless, she felt deflated and depressed. What worry”? Wayness forced herself to ponder. Several schemes suggested themselves, all either impractical, illegal, immoral or dangerous. Wayness liked none of them, especially all variations on the theme of kidnapping one or more of the dogs.
Down the avenue from Mirky Porod came Sophie the erstwhile maid, carrying a pair of bulging suitcases. She looked at Wayness. 'Here we are again. How did your interview go?'
“Not well.'
'I could have told you that from the start.' Sophie put down her suitcases and joined Wayness on the bench. As for me, I am finished, definitely and forever. I have suffered enough from that old reptile and her curs.”
Wayness gave rueful assent. “She has an uncertain temper.”
“Oh, her temper is certain enough,“ said Sophie. “It is always bad, and niggardly to boot she pays as little as she can and she wants attention at all hours. No wonder she has trouble keeping staff.'
