“Father,” responded Katharina in a firm tone, “I have never refused to obey you, and have always endeavoured to prove by my obedience that I have not ceased to love and respect you, which is my wish and duty.”
“It is probably with this intention,” said the old man bitterly, “that notwithstanding my express will you still persist in loving the son of Hochstetter.”
“Oh, Father,” interrupted the young girl, blushing deeply.
“Try not to deny it,” answered he with anger. “You love him, you love him madly, in spite of me or my strict orders, and the obedience which you declare you owe me.”
Katharina was too much agitated to answer immediately. She hesitated, and then said with a trembling voice, which grew firmer as she proceeded:
“I love him more than I can say, more than I know myself, which renders me incapable of obeying you, when you require that I shall forget him. Can you make me commit a crime? Is it not you yourself who have taught me from my most tender youth to esteem and love Hochstetter as your friend, and the friend of my deceased mother, and to consider him as my second father? Is it my fault if in obeying you I have ended by loving his son, the friend of my infancy, the companion of my youthful days, the only child of my guardian? No, the fault is yours at first, yours alone, and in commanding me to change my sentiments you demand an impossibility and render me the most unhappy of all beings!”
“It is true,” murmured Frügger, striking his forehead. “It is my fault, it is my fault. I have had too much confidence. I have delivered myself to them bound hand and foot, like an old fool that I was. But if with an effort you can satisfy me, render me happy?” questioned he, raising his voice.
“Render you happy, Father? I do not understand you. Why is your interest so great?”
“What interest, child,” cried he, with a frightful expression upon his features, “what interest!—You know you are sure of my affection for you, but I believe, nevertheless, that sooner than let you persevere in this love I prefer to see you dead. Oh, yes, dead! Ask of me all you wish, demand my blood, my life, but I plead with you, renounce this detested Carl, whom I hate as my enemy,” continued he, seizing her arm and pressing it with savage energy. “Renounce him, I pray you; say that you will love him no more, that you will think of him only as an enemy—as the enemy of your father.”
Katharina burst into tears. “I wish I could promise what you exact of me, but I feel it impossible to keep a promise to forget him.”