"I know," said the doctor, "that Richard abominates crinoline. Last year he expressed his opinion about it, and I had to agree with him."
"My God!" said the father, astonished, "you certainly would not encourage my son in his perverted opinion?"
"No," returned the doctor quietly; "but you must not expect me to condemn sound opinions. His judgment of woman is prejudiced—granted. But observe well, my dear Frank. This judgment is at the same time a protest of a noble nature against the age of crinoline. Your son expects much of women. Superficiality, vanity, passion for dress, fickleness, and so forth, do not satisfy his sense of propriety. Marriage, to him, is an earnest, holy union. He would unite himself to a well-disposed woman, to a noble soul who would love her husband and her duties, but not to a degenerate specimen of womankind. Such I conceive to have been the reasons which have produced in your son this antipathy."
"I believe you judge rightly," answered Frank. "But it must appear clear to Richard that his views are unjust, and that there are always women who would realize his expectations."
The doctor thought for a moment, and a significant smile played over his features.
"This must become clear to him—yes, and it will become clear to him sooner, perhaps, than you expect," said the doctor.
"I do not understand you, doctor."
"Yesterday we met Angela," said Klingenberg. "This Angela is an extraordinary being of dazzling beauty; almost the incarnation of Richard's ideal. I told him of her fine qualities, which he was inclined to question. But happily I was able to establish these qualities by facts. Now, as Angela lives but a mile from here and as the simple customs of the country render access to the family easy, I have not understood the character of your son if he does not take advantage of this opportunity to become more intimately acquainted with Angela, even if his object were only to confirm his former opinions of women. If he knew Angela more intimately, it is my firm conviction that his aversion would soon change into the most ardent affection."
"Who is this Angela?"
"The daughter of your neighbor, Siegwart."