They had all eaten the midday meal earlier than usual to-day, and
been hungry for the tea and biscuits. But they had scarcely finished
when great crystal bowls were handed round full of a yellow, grainy
substance which turned out to be almond cream. It was a mixture of
eggs, ground almonds, and rose-water, tasting perfectly delicious; but
if you ate even a tiny spoonful too much, the result was an attack
of indigestion. However, the company was not restrained by fear of
consequences--even though Frau Consul begged them to “leave a little
corner for supper.” Clothilde, in particular, performed miracles
with the almond cream, and lapped it up like so much porridge, with
heart-felt gratitude. There was also wine jelly in glasses, and English
plum-cake. Gradually they all moved over to the landscape-room, where
they sat with their plates round the table.
Hanno remained alone in the dining-room. Little Elisabeth Weinschenk
had already been taken home; but he was to stop up for supper, for
the first time in his life. The servants and the poor folk had had
their presents and gone; Ida Jungmann was chattering with Riekchen
Severin in the hall--although generally, as a governess, she preserved
a proper distance between herself and the Frau Consul’s maid.--The
lights of the great tree were burnt down and extinguished, the manger
was in darkness. But a few candles still burned on the small trees,
and now and then a twig came within reach of the flame and crackled
up, increasing the pungent smell in the room. Every breath of air that
stirred the trees stirred the pieces of tinsel too, and made them
give out a delicate metallic whisper. It was still enough to hear the
hand-organ again, sounding through the frosty air from a distant street.
Hanno abandoned himself to the enjoyment of the Christmas sounds and
smells. He propped his head on his hand and read in his mythology
book, munching mechanically the while, because that was proper to the
day: marzipan, sweetmeats, almond cream, and plum-cake; until the
chest-oppression caused by an over-loaded stomach mingled with the
sweet excitation of the evening and gave him a feeling of pensive
felicity. He read about the struggles of Zeus before he arrived at the
headship of the gods; and every now and then he listened into the other
room, where they were going at length into the future of poor Aunt
Clothilde.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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