"Mr. Sandow, you are going too far! So now, when my guardian repulses Frida, when you see the impossibility of gaining his consent, you dare to approach me! You even venture to deny your bride before me, and to give the whole thing out as a farce. That is really too much!"
"But Miss Clifford--for heaven's sake!" cried Gustave, now seriously disturbed.
She would not allow him to speak, but continued, as if beside herself--
"I knew long ago, when you laid such stress upon the word protégée, that you were leaving a way of escape open. If Frida and fortune could both be won, well and good; if only fortune, Frida must go. There would still remain the heiress, who in the first place was intended for you, and this heiress you would secure while the forsaken, deceived girl was still under our roof. I have already experienced bitter disappointment with respect to your character, but such disgraceful disregard of truth and good faith I had not expected, even from you!"
A flood of tears choked her voice. Gustave tried prayers, entreaties, explanations; all were in vain. She hurried into the adjoining room, and when he tried to follow her she drew the bolt inside. Directly after he heard her leave that room also by another door, so that his words could no longer reach her. Left thus in the lurch, Gustave began to give vent to his anger.
"This is really too bad! This is what I have gained by sacrificing myself to the interests of others! My brother bursts upon me raging and storming because I give a caress to my own niece, and now I am treated like a criminal because I am too indifferent to her. Really, I ought to have taken Jessie into our confidence. This comes of too great a supply of high spirits. The thing amused me, and she--now she cries like one in the depths of despair. Now perhaps I may wait till tomorrow without her reappearing, and the misunderstanding should be brought to an end at once."
Despairingly he stamped with his foot, when suddenly a voice behind him said--
"I beg pardon--but I was directed here."
Gustave started and looked round. At the principal entrance of the drawing-room stood a stranger, a little man with a round face, who, bowing politely, said--
"Have I the honour of addressing the head of the house of Clifford?" He looked rather nervous, for Gustave's violent pantomime had not escaped him. "I have been to the office, and was there told that Mr. Sandow had already left. As my business is very urgent, I have been obliged to follow him out here."