Old Lohmeier looked at him sympathetically, it was plain that he was sorry to part with the kind, goodhearted young fellow.
"Stay here," he said simply, "you know we should like to keep you."
Margaret looked at him with bright eyes swimming with tears.
"I cannot help it," he said, "I must go some time, and the longer I stay the worse it will be."
He sighed deeply, and his eyes met those of the young girl.
Margaret put down her head and sobbed aloud. Then she sprang up, covered her face with her hands, and leaned her head against a large chest that stood in the corner, weeping bitterly.
Fritz Deyke rushed to her.
"My God!" he cried, and tried to withdraw her hands from her face, "I cannot bear it, you will break my heart!"
He stood still for a moment before the weeping girl with his eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the ground. Then he walked quickly back to the table and stood before the old man.
"Herr Lohmeier," he said in a firm tone, "I can no longer restrain my feelings. I intended to go home first and come to an understanding with my father, and then to come back here, but I cannot do it. I cannot see her cry, I must speak, and as to my father, I know beforehand quite well what he will say. Herr Lohmeier, I cannot be happy without Margaret, I have enough, much more than enough to keep a wife. I know you think me an honest fellow--give me your daughter!"