Here Sabine reigned supreme.

She herself took out and replaced whatever was wanted, and was not fond of admitting any other person.

She was now standing at the table, which was covered with newly-washed linen, and, as she looked over the arabesques of the exquisitely fine table-napkins, a cloud passed over her brow.
Two, three, four holes! She rang for the servant.
"It is intolerable, Franz," said she; "there are three spoiled now in No.

24; one of the gentlemen runs his fork through the napkins.

There is surely no need for that here." "That there is not," was the indignant reply; "the plate is under my own care." "Which of the gentlemen is so reckless ?" asked Sabine, severely.
"It is Herr von Fink," was the reply; "he has a habit of constantly running his fork through the napkins.