"Have you been listening, Celia?" the Finanzrath asked.
"Of course I have. I saw you arrive, and by way of welcome plucked a whole apronful of syringa flowers to surprise you after a sisterly fashion, and then crept up to the door on tiptoe. There, to my horror, I heard how the redoubtable Finanzrath had the impudence to tell my darling old papa that he had not brought me up. Was it not my duty to listen? You are a detestable monster, Werner! Look at me and tell me what fault you have to find with me."
At this moment the Finanzrath certainly had no fault whatever to find with his charming sister; he thought her lovely, and owned to himself that if no one had brought Celia up, mother Nature had done the best that was possible for her. Her every movement was graceful, her bearing that of a lady, and even in the stormy embrace she had bestowed upon her father there had been nothing rude or unfeminine, but only an impulsive warmth that became her admirably.
"Why do you not speak?" Celia went on, as the Finanzrath continued to look at her with a smile but without replying. "You were ready enough just now to prate about my want of social elegance, and Herr Arno, in the character of a dignified echo, added his 'I cannot deny it.' Only wait, Arno; you shall atone to me for that!"
"That's right!" the Freiherr cried in high glee. "The little witch has you both on the hip."
"And, papa, I am a little angry with you, too. You were nearly talked over by that odious Werner. Now let me tell you, if you ever send me to boarding-school I will run away immediately. Even if I have to beg my way back to Hohenwald I never will stay in Dresden with that horrid Frau von Adelung, to whom Werner would sell me like a slave."
"You would not talk so, child, if you had ever seen Frau von Adelung," the Finanzrath observed.
"I am not a child, and I will not let you treat me as such. Remember that, Werner. I will never consent to be sent to school."
"Assure yourself on that point, little one. You heard me say that I never will permit such an arrangement: that I cannot and will not be parted from you," said the old man.
"Yes, I heard that, you dear old papa, and I could have shouted for joy when you refused to listen to Werner's odious plan. You cannot live without me, nor can I without you. So let Arno talk as he pleases. You and I know that I am very well brought up. Neither you nor Arno has ever found any fault with my manners, and as for what Werner has to say about marriage, it is all nonsense. I shall never marry, but live here with you two at Hohenwald. Upon that I am resolved."