‘Then he must be a very contemptible character,’ said Greif indignantly.
‘Because he is so much attached to you that it pains him to see his place taken by another, even by woman? No, sweetheart. That is not contemptible. But you must change it. Tell him to be reasonable—’
‘Could I say that you are offended with him?’ asked Greif. ‘Can I go to Rex and tell him that he must not only be civil but must be a friend to you?’
‘You are jesting,’ she answered. ‘But it is just what I would do in earnest—what I will do, if you will let me. He would understand that. I would say to him, Herr Rex, you are Greif’s only relation besides ourselves. It is absolutely necessary for his happiness that we should be on good terms, you and I. Is it my fault? He would answer that it was not, for he is honest. Then it is yours, I would say, and the sooner you turn yourself into a friend of mine, the better it will be for Greif, who is the only person you care for in the world. Is not that common sense?’
‘Do you mean to say that?’ asked Greif rather anxiously.
‘If you will let me, I will,’ answered Hilda, returning to her occupation and swinging the old door slowly between her two hands.
‘If I will let you!’ repeated Greif. ‘Do you think I would try to prevent you from saying what you please, darling—’
‘You ought to, if you think it would be a mistake—at least, after we are married.’
‘I am not sure that I could,’ he answered with a laugh.
‘No one else could,’ said Hilda, looking up at him with flashing eyes. ‘If I meant to do a thing, I would do it, of course. Did I not say that I would not let you go?’