"And why not say anything to his mother?" says I, bouncing into the room. "Am I n.o.body in the family?"

"Bedad you are!" said K. I., with a heavy sigh.

"Haven't I an opinion of my own, eh?"

"That you have!" said he.

"And don't I stand to it, too!--eh, Kenny James?"

"Your worst enemy couldn't deny it!" said he, shaking his head.

"Then what's all this about?" said I, s.n.a.t.c.hing the letter out of his hands. But though I tried with my double eyegla.s.s, Molly, it was no use, for the writing was in a German hand, not to say anything of the language.

"Well, ma'am," said K. I., with a grin, "I hope the contents are pleasing to you?" And before I could fly out at him, James broke in: "It's a proposal for Mary Anne, mother. The young Baron that we met at Bonn makes her an offer of his hand and fortune, and invites us all to his castle in the Black Forest as a preliminary step."

"Isn't that to your taste, Mrs. D.?" said K. I., with another grin.

"High connection--n.o.bility--great family,--eh?"

"I don't think," said I, "that, considering the step I took myself in life, anybody can reproach me with prejudices of that kind." The step I took! Molly, I said the words with a sneer that made him purple.

"What's his fortune, James?" said I.

"Heaven knows! but he must have a stunning income. This Castle of Wolfenfels is in all the print-shops of the town. It's a thing as large as Windsor, and surrounded by miles of forest."

"My poor child," said I, "I always knew where you 'd be at last; and it's only two nights ago I had a dream of taking grease out of my yellow satin. I thought I was rubbing and scrubbing at it with all my might."

"And what did that portend, ma'am?" said K. I., with his usual sneer.

"Can't you guess?" said I. "Might n't it mean an effort to get rid of the stain of a low connection?" Was n't that a home-thrust, Molly?

Faith, he felt it so!

"Mrs. D.," said he, gravely, and as if after profound thought, "this is a question of our child's happiness for life-long, and if we are to discuss it at all, let it be without any admixture of attack or recrimination."

"Who began it?" said I.

"You did, my dear," said he.

"I did n't," said I; "and I 'm not 'your dear.' Oh, you needn't sigh that way; your case isn't half so bad as you think it, but, like all men, you fancy yourself cruelly treated whenever the slightest bar is placed to your bad pa.s.sions. You argue as if wickedness was good for your const.i.tution."

"Have you done?" said he.

"Not yet," said I, taking a chair in front of him.

"When you have, then," said he, "call me, for I 'll go out and sit on the stairs." But I put my back to the door, Molly, so that he had nothing for it but to resume his seat. "Let us move the order of the day, Mrs. D.," said he,--"this business of Mary Anne. My opinion of it is told in few words. These mixed marriages seldom succeed. Even with long previous intimacy, suitable fortune, and equality of station, there is that in a difference of nationality that opens a hundred discrepancies in taste, feeling--"

"Bother!" said I, "we have just as much when we come from the same stock."

"Sometimes," said he, sighing.

"Here's what he says, mother," said James, and read out the letter, which I am bound to say, Molly, was a curiosity in its way; for though it had such a strange look, it turned out to be in English, or at least what the Baron thought was such. Happily there was no mistaking the meaning; and as I said to K. I., "At least there 's one thing in the Baron's favor,--there's neither deceit nor subterfuge about him. He makes his proposal like a man!" And let me tell you, Molly, we live in an age when even that same is a virtue; for really, with the liberties that's allowed, and the way girls goes on, there 's no saying what intentions men have at all!

Some mothers make a point of never seeing anything; but that may be carried too far, particularly abroad, my dear. Others are for always being dragons, but that is sure to scare off the men; and as I say, what's the use of birdlime if you 're always shouting and screaming!

My notion is, Molly, that a moderate degree of what the French call "surveillance" is the right thing,--a manner that seems to say, "I 'm looking at you: I'm not against innocent enjoyments, and so forth, but I won't stand any nonsense, nor falling in love." Many 's the time the right man is scared away by a new flirtation, that meant nothing. "She's too gay for _me_--she has a look in her eye, or a toss of the head, or a--Heaven knows--I don't like."

"Does she care for him?" said K. I. "Does Mary Anne care for him?--that's the question."

"Of course she does," said I. "If a girl's affections are not engaged in some other quarter, she always cares for the man that proposes for her.

Is n't he a good match?"

"He as much as says so himself."

"And a Baron?"

"Yes."

"And has an elegant place, with a park of miles round it?"

"So he says."

"Well, then, I 'm sure I see nothing to prevent her being attached to him."

"At all events, let us speak to her," said he, and sent James upstairs to fetch her down.

Short as the time was that he was away, it was enough for K. I. to get into one of his pa.s.sions, just because I gave him the friendly caution that he ought to be delicate and guarded in the way he mentioned the matter to Mary Anne.

"Is n't she my daughter?" said he, with a stamp of his foot; and just for that, Molly, I would n't give him the satisfaction to say she is.

"I ask you," cried he again, "isn't she my daughter?"

Not a syllable would I answer him.

"Well, maybe she is n't," said he; "but my authority over her is all the same."

"Oh, you can be as cruel and tyrannical as you please," said I.

"Look now, Mrs. D.--" said he; but, fortunately, Molly, just at that moment James and his sister came in, and he stopped suddenly.

"Oh, dearest papa," cried Mary Anne, falling at his feet, and hiding her face in her hands, "how can I leave you, and dear, dear mamma?"

"That's what we are going to talk over, my dear," said he, quite dryly, and taking a pinch of snuff.

"Your father is never overpowered by his commotions, my love," said I.

"To forsake my happy home!" sobbed Mary Anne, as if her heart was breaking. "Oh, what an agony to think of!"

"To be sure it is," said K. I., in the same hard, husky voice; "but it's what we see done every day. Ask your mother--"

"Don't ask me to justify it," said I. "_My_ experiences go all the other way."