“These are the rules of decency and of etiquette, which I hope my daughter will respect,” said Frau von Werrig, in a severe tone. “No virtuous young girl would presume to receive her betrothed alone or exchange love-letters with him before marriage!”
“After the wedding there will be opportunities enough for such follies,” grumbled the general.
“You may be sure that I shall use them, dear father,” laughed Ebenstreit. “I would beg my respected mother to release me a half-hour from my oath to-day, that I may indulge the first expressed wish that my future wife favors me with.”
“It is impossible, my son. I never deviate from my principles. You will not speak with my daughter before marriage, except in the presence of her parents.”
“Mother, do you insist upon it?” cried Marie, terrified. “Will you not indulge this slight wish?”
“‘This slight wish!’” sneered her mother. “As if I did not know why you ask this private conversation. You wish to persuade our son-in-law to what you in vain have tried to implore your parents to do. A modest maiden has nothing to say to her future husband, which her parents, and above all her mother, could not hear. So tell your betrothed what you desire.”
“Well, mother, you must then take the consequences.—Herr Ebenstreit, they will force me to become your wife, they will sell me as merchandise to you, and you have accepted the bargain in good faith, believing that I agree to sacrifice my freedom and human rights for riches. They have deceived you, sir! I am not ready to give myself up to the highest bidder. I am a woman, with a heart to love and hate, who esteems affection superior to wealth. I cannot marry you, and I beg you not to teach me to hate you.”
A savage curse broke forth from the general, who, forgetting his gout, rose furious, shaking his clinched fist at his daughter.
His wife was immediately by his side, and pushed him into his arm-chair, commanding him, in her harsh, cold to remain quiet and take care of his health, and listen to what his son-in-law had to say to his unfeeling and unnatural daughter. “He alone has to decide.—Speak, my dear son,” said she, turning to the young man, who, with a malicious smile, had listened to the baroness, fixing his dull-blue eyes upon the young girl, who never seemed so desirable to him, as she now stood before him with glowing cheeks.
“Again I say, speak, my dear son, and tell my daughter the truth; do you hear, the truth?”