A second laugh, somewhat menacing, sounded like a challenge. “The schoolmaster!” she cried, contemptuously.
“Let her dare to tell me again she loves the schoolmaster; she the daughter of a general, and a native-born countess of the empire!”
“My dear, it was your fault—the only fault you ever committed, perhaps. How could you let such a young, handsome, and agreeable man come to the house as teacher to our daughter?”
“How could I suppose my daughter was so degenerated as to love a common schoolmaster, and wish to marry him?”
“It is truly unheard of, and it would make any one angry, my dear wife, for she insists upon loving him.”
“She will not insist, she will do what she is commanded to do—my word for it! But why talk about it? It is better to decide the matter at once.”
So Frau von Werrig rose with a determined manner, and rang the small brass bell which was upon the sofa-table. But a few seconds elapsed before a little, crooked servant appeared at the side-door, with her dirty apron put aside by tucking the corner in her belt. “Go to my daughter, and tell her to come down immediately!”
The servant, instead of hastening to obey the order, remained standing upon the threshold. “I dare not go,” said she, in a hoarse, croaking voice. “Fraulein told me not to disturb her to-day, for she has still two bouquets of flowers to arrange, and two lessons to give, and she is so busy that she is not at home to visitors. She torments herself from morning till night.”
“I order you to tell Fraulein to come down at once; we have something important to tell her. No contradiction! go, Trude!”
The servant understood the cold, commanding tone of the mother, and dared not disobey.