"It is the one condition on which I stay here," returned Wilhelm firmly.
"What a dreadful proud boy you are! You will not accept a thing from me, and I told you yesterday that I would never be too proud to share your possessions with you. And if you had married me, you would no doubt have scorned to touch my dowry, and wanted to pay me for your board too."
"Dear heart, I imagine the question is settled between us, and never to be discussed again. I simply cannot live free of expense in the house of my—"
"Your wife," she broke in hastily.
"Of my—wife."
"Very well," she said, resigning herself, "you must have your own way, I suppose. But explain to me, my Teutonic philosopher, how comes it that so high-bred a body and so noble a mind can contain a corner holding such a tradesman's idea? How can one make these commonplace calculations when one is in love? Are you Germans all like that, or is it an inherited weakness in your family?"
"In my family," he answered simply, and without a trace of bitterness, "as far back as I know of (though that is certainly not anything like as far as your ancestor, the first knight of San Iago), we have always worked for our living, and owed all to our own industry. I am the first who found the table ready spread for him, and who knows if it has been an advantage to me."
"Now you are making fun of my ancestors, you disagreeable man—when did I ever say such a silly thing?"
"I never said you did, but you asked an explanation of the German philosopher, and the German philosopher has done his best to give you one."
She locked her pocketbook in the cabinet again, and there the matter ended between them.