"You are right. I had another motive. I must tell you that your father left directions in his will that, six weeks after his death, I should give my hand in marriage to the administrator. A betrothal ceremony, accordingly, is the immediate occasion of the coming together of our acquaintances. Your father wished our house to gain a new support, able to bear the burden that will be imposed upon it."
"If it was my father's will and is yours also—" began the son.
"Is my will, then, of supreme authority with you?" asked the mother.
"You know that it is my highest law," was the reply.
"Very well. Now I will tell you what my will really is. The house of Baradlay needs a master and a mistress,—a master to command and guide, a mistress with power to win hearts. A master it will find in—you."
Ödön started in surprise.
"You will be the master, and your wife the mistress, of this house."
The young man sighed heavily. "Mother, you know this cannot be," said he.
"Will you not marry?"
"Never!"