The heart of the good father was lacerated by this spectacle. So Matilda had nothing at all, poor girl!
The girl would have risen when she beheld her father, but was unable to do so. Mr. Meyer rushed towards her with a penitent countenance, just as if he had sinned against her. The girl seized his hand, pressed it to her bosom, covered it with kisses, and in a broken voice begged for his forgiveness.
A father's heart must surely have been made of stone to have resisted such an appeal! He forgave
her, of course, and a coach was immediately sent for in which to convey her home. Let the world say what it liked, blood is stronger than water; a father cannot slay his offspring for the sake of a little tripping!
And besides, as a matter of fact, there was not the slightest reason why he should punish her so severely, for that very same day he received a letter (it was brought to the house by a liveried servant), which the nobleman so frequently alluded to wrote him with his own hand, and in which he expressed his grief that his innocent, well-meaning advances should have occasioned such a misunderstanding. He declared, moreover, that he regarded the whole family with the greatest respect, and as to his intercourse with Matilda, it was simply dictated by his enthusiasm for art. Nay, he was prepared, if necessary, to furnish the most incontestible proofs, under his own hand and seal, that the young lady's virtue was fenced about by absolutely impregnable bulwarks.
Ah! an honest, honourable gentleman, indeed!
"Well, that's all right," said Mr. Meyer, whom this letter perfectly satisfied—"quite another sort of thing, in fact. But, at any rate, he ought not to try and make Matilda go out with him, or try and see her behind the scenes. That might so easily compromise her. If his intentions are honourable, let him come to the house."
Imbecile, to give bread to the rats that they might not disturb him in the night-time, instead of keeping a cat!
Naturally, in a couple of days, Matilda was as rosy as an apple just plucked from the tree, and her squire now came to the house to visit her quite nicely. In a few months' time he departed, and after him came a young banker, and then another squire, and a third and a fourth, and goodness knows how many more. And all of them were
great votaries of art, worthy respectable gentlemen every one of them, who were never known to utter an improper word, who kissed mamma's hand, and talked on sensible topics with papa, and bowed as decorously to the girls as if they were young countesses at the very least. And among them were such merry, amusing young fellows, who would make one die of laughter with their jokes, and teased mamma by going into the kitchen and tasting the dishes, and pocketing the pancakes. Oh, they were such funny, quizzical young fellows!