"Your dress cannot be made in the house of Pricker, mademoiselle."
"What, you refuse to work for me?"
"I will not adopt the French fashions! that would be an insult to my ancestors. I will remain true to the good old German customs."
"Reflect," said Count Rhedern, "how much this obstinacy will cost you. You will lose all the patronage of the court; all the world adopts the new French fashions."
"That is true," said the sorrowful Pricker; he approached and pointed through the window to the house opposite. "Once all those carriages stood before my door; once I dressed all those noble people; a wink would be sufficient to recall them. Would I be untrue to the customs of my fathers, would I employ French workmen, all those carriages would be arrayed before my door. I hold the destiny of that contemptible Frenchman in my hands; a word from me, and he would be ruined; but I will not speak that word. Let him live to the disgrace and shame of the Germans who abandoned the time-honored customs of their fatherland."
The count offered his arm to his bride, and said, mockingly:
"I thank you for your address. I see that a German tailor may be a consummate fool! Come, my dear Caroline, we will go to M. Pelissier."
Pricker remained alone; grand and proud he stood in the middle of the saloon, and looked up, like a conquering hero, at the grim portraits of his ancestors.
"Be satisfied with me," he murmured; "I have made a new sacrifice to your names. My house is German, and German it shall remain."
At this moment there arose on the air the clear, full voice of his daughter, who was practising with Quantz a favorite Italian air of the king. "Nel tue giorni felice ricordati da me," sang the beautiful Anna, while Father Pricker ran, like a madman, up and down the room, and stopped his ears, that he might not hear the hateful sound. He cursed himself for allowing the monster Quantz to come to the house.