"Consider, my son," urged Rety, "consider what your grandfather and father did to raise our family to its present position! Are the struggles of half-a-century to be sacrificed to your passion? to a whim of the moment? Consider that you deprive my house of its peace; for, believe me, my wife and Vilma can never meet as friends; and my wife tells me that she would sooner leave the house than consent to this cursed marriage. Think of your sister, for she too is likely to be ruined by your obstinacy. What gentleman would be kin to a village notary?"
The sheriff would probably have urged a variety of other reasons upon the consideration of his son, but the door opened, and Lady Rety entered the room. Rety's arguments were not likely to have any effect upon his son; nor was it probable that Akosh could ever persuade his father, that a man who had the full enjoyment of his reasoning faculties could prefer the daughter of a poor village notary to the seductive charms of a shrievalty; but still Akosh loved his father, and the sheriff's warmth and sincerity touched his heart. But when his step-mother entered, and (as usual) took the lead in the discussion, her commanding tone and supercilious manner turned the young man's blood to gall, and his every word betrayed his scorn and disgust of the woman, whom he knew to be an accessory of a crime.
"I presume you have talked to Akosh," said Lady Rety, addressing her husband. "Pray what has he to say for himself?"
"Yes, I did mention the matter—and Akosh said he would—that is to say, just at present—that he——"
"That he will never resign Vilma," cried Akosh, "neither now nor ever; that's what he says!"
"Oh, very well!" replied Lady Rety, with an angry look at her son. "You are mistaken, if you believe, sir, that we can ever be brought to consent to this marriage."
"As for your ladyship, I never reckoned on your consent; but——"
"Nor will your father give his. I am sure my husband has never given you reason to suppose——"
"Perhaps not!" said Akosh. "But since my father loves me, I have no reason to suppose that his will is unchangeable."
"It is unchangeable!" cried Lady Rety, violently. "I say it is unchangeable! Am I right, Rety?"