"You need not thank me," interrupted her father. "I did not cast my vote for you."
"So?" said Hans, disappointed. "That was not kind. What did you have to say against me?"
"What, do you still ask the same old question? You well know my opinion of you. You know that I wish my daughter to marry a good and honorable man."
"Well," said Hans, "I know a worthy man and I have come to bring him before you."
"Pray, who can he be?"
"I, worthy Counselor."
"You? Did anyone ever hear such audacity from a beggar boy?"
"Mr. Counselor, I never was a beggar. I was poor, but let that person come before you who dares say he ever gave me a cent. My father supported me until his death, when my mother took up the burden. The only thing I ever received was the King's gift, and for that I never begged. The King gave it to me out of his big heart. His eye could pierce with love the soul of humanity; and in me, a poor boy, he sensed appreciation. Truly, his money has accumulated interest. I am no beggar, Mr. Counselor, and will not tolerate such a speech."
"No, you will not tolerate it;" said he, somewhat calmed. "Where, then, is your wealth?"
"Here," said Hans Le Fevre, and he touched his head and his hands. "I have a thinking head and skilled hands."