Ernestine added, "And old Dr. Helm."
"Yes, Heim and the Möllners are like one family. Naturally, they would all do what they could for you. Heim would exult greatly in the fulfilment of his prophecies."
Ernestine bit her lip.
"To be sure, after what has occurred, you may safely look to them for the means of support. Perhaps they may find you a place as a governess, if they should become tired of you. But the question is whether that would not be a deeper humiliation than going abroad with me. Good heavens! in this world you must call many a one comrade whose conscience is far from clear, and whom you must not ask for a certificate of character. Let your uncle be to you one of these. I will not intrude upon you,--will not enter your presence, if you do not desire it."
He waited for an answer. Ernestine's eyes were fixed broodingly upon the ground.
"Or possibly you would rather reconsider your determination, and go to the Frau Staatsräthin and beg to be forgiven. I fear,--I greatly fear,--the prudent mother would say, 'Aha, she was haughty enough as long as she had plenty of money, but, now that it has all gone, she grows humble and is quite willing to ask for shelter and countenance. She asks for bread now that she is hungry. The most savage brutes are tamed by hunger,--when its pangs are keen the heart is weak.'"
"Hush, uncle! oh, hush!" cried Ernestine with a shudder.
But Leuthold was not to be silenced. He was in his element again. "That is what the supercilious mother would say, for these intellectual aristocrats are filled with the pride of independence, and exact it from others. And the Herr Professor? Naturally, he would feel it doubly his duty to marry you and cherish the starving woman. But when the first enthusiasm of sympathy was past, what, think you, Ernestine, would be his reflections in cooler moments?"
"He would say, 'Necessity made her my wife,--not love.'"
"'And why should I give love in return?'" Leuthold completed the thought.