"Fräulein von Eberstein has done even more," he began. "She has given me a highly gratifying reply to a question that I put to her. I have just told her of my love for her, and have had her confession that it is returned. We pray you, therefore, Herr Baron, to bestow upon us your paternal blessing."
Very unexpectedly the old Freiherr received this declaration with a tolerable degree of composure, but this was simply because he did not comprehend it. He thought it a fresh 'disgraceful farce,' for it never occurred to him that the son of a bourgeois professor could presume to woo a Fräulein von Eberstein.
"Herr Wehlau, I must beg you to desist from such ill-timed pleasantry!" he said, loftily. "You appear ignorant of the presumption of your conduct, and you surely have reason enough to be serious in my presence."
"Then I must pray you to speak, Gerlinda, and to confirm my words. Tell your father that you have given me the right to ask him for your hand; that you consent to belong to me, and to me alone."
The words were uttered with extreme tenderness, but for Gerlinda they contained a serious admonition to overcome her timidity and to second her Hans bravely. Moreover, was he not beside her, ready to protect her? She accordingly broke forth with, "Oh, papa, I love him so dearly, so very dearly! Even if he is not of noble blood and has no coat of arms, I care for nobody but my Hans!"
"My darling!" cried the young fellow, clasping her to his heart. And then an incredible, an inconceivable occurrence took place. Before the very eyes of the Baron Udo von Eberstein-Ortenau the man of 'no name, no family,' kissed the last scion of the lofty race dating from the tenth century, and not only once, but twice in succession!
For a moment the old Baron was unable either to speak or to stir. He gazed at the pair, and then lifted his eyes to the ceiling, evidently expecting nothing less than that the walls should tumble in and crush this daring wretch. Castle Steinrück, however, seemed to be of opinion that this affair belonged entirely to the Ebersburg, which was doubtless falling in ruins at this moment with a dull crash. The Baron perceived that the end of the world delayed incomprehensibly in putting in an appearance, and conceiving that it was his part to supply its place, he tried to spring to his feet. But the gout was in league with the lovers: it held him fast. Instead of stepping between the pair like an avenging angel, he swayed to and fro in a helpless way, and then sank feebly back in his arm-chair.
"Gerlinda!" he called, hoarsely. "Degenerate child! Come here! Come to me this instant!"
Gerlinda made a faint effort to obey, but when Hans clasped his arm about her more closely she submitted, and repeated, sobbing, "Oh, papa, I love him so dearly!"
"Herr Hans Wehlau," Eberstein fairly yelled, losing all self-control, "release my daughter on the spot, I command you! Retire immediately!"