The new-comer bowed with suavity, saying, in excellent English—
“It is to your sister that in both senses I owe my entrance, and to the lady, your mother, that I owe my apology.”
And before Caroline well knew what was going on, he had one knee to the ground, and was kissing her hand.
“The tableau is incomplete, Janet,” said Bobus, whom Caroline heartily wished away. “You ought to be on your knees beside him.”
“I have settled it with my mother already,” said Janet.
Both Caroline and her eldest son were relieved by the first glance at the man. He was small, and had much more of the Greek than of the German in his aspect, with neat little features, keen dark eyes, and no vulgarity in tone or appearance. His hands were delicate; there was nothing of the “greasy foreigner” about him, but rather an air of finesse, especially in his exquisitely trimmed little moustache and pointed beard, and his voice and language were persuasive and fluent. It might have been worse, was the prominent feeling, as she hastily said—
“Stand up, Mr. Hermann; I am not used to be spoken to in that manner.”
“Nor is it an ordinary occasion on which I address madame,” said her new son-in-law, rising. “I am aware that I have transgressed many codes, but my anxiety to secure my treasure must plead for me; and she assured me that she might trust to the goodness of the best of mothers.”
“There is such a thing as abusing such goodness,” said Bobus.
“Sir,” said Hermann, “I understand that you have rights as eldest son, but I await my sentence from the lips of madame herself.”