“Your marriage with an English officer,” he said, “will be the symbol of reconciliation between England and Germany.”
After that he remembered his father and mother, and was a coward at the thought of their hostility. The idea of telling his father, as Elsa asked him to do, put him into what Brand called “the bluest of blue funk.” He had the German reverence for parental authority and though he went as far as the door-handle of his father’s study, he retreated, and said in a boyish way, speaking in English, as usual, with Brand and his sister:
“I haven’t the pluck! I would rather face shell-fire than my father’s wrath.”
It was Brand who “went over the top.”
He made his announcement formally, in the drawing-room after dinner, in the curiously casual way which proved him a true Englishman. He cleared his throat (he told me, grinning at his own mannerism), and during a gap in the conversation said to the General:
“By the way, sir, I have something rather special to mention to-night.”
“Bitte?” said the old General, with his hard, deliberate courtesy.
“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 Kreuzenach, 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.