“Your daughter and I,” said Brand, “wish to be married as soon as possible. I have the honour to ask your consent.”
Brand told me of the awful silence which followed his statement. It seemed interminable. Franz von Kreuze-nach, who was present, was as white as though he had been condemned to death by court-martial. Elsa was speechless, but came over to Brand’s side and held his hand. Her mother had the appearance of a lady startled by the sudden appearance of a poisonous snake. The General sat back in his chair, grasping its arms and gasping for breath as though Brand had hit him in the stomach.
It was the mother who spoke first, and ignoring Brand completely, she addressed her daughter harshly.
“You are mad, Elsa!”
“Yes, mother,” said the girl. “I am mad with joy.”
“This English officer insults us intolerably,” said the mother, still ignoring Brand by any glance. “We were forced to receive him into our house. At least he might have behaved with decency and respect.”
“Mother,” said Elsa, “this gentleman has given me the great honour of his love.”
“To accept it,” said the lady, “would be a dishonour so dreadful for a good German girl that I refuse to believe it possible.”
“It is true, mother, and I am wonderfully happy.”
Elsa went over to her mother, sinking down on her knees, and kissing the lady’s hand. But Frau von Kreu-zenach withdrew her hand quickly, and then rose from her chair and stood behind her husband, with one hand on his shoulder.