from a son, yes, from a son—has not Siska always considered me as her eldest?—or, if it pleases you better, from a son-in-law … Vincent, give me the hand of your daughter Henriette!"
Tilbak put his hands upon Laurent's shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes:
"Thank you. Monsieur Laurent! Your generous offer touches us no less profoundly than your request, but we cannot grant it … For a long time past my wife has read our daughter's heart and struggled against the unreasonable feeling that is concealed there. To hide nothing from you, that love is itself one of the reasons for our departure. All of us, here, need a change of air …
"I tell you, also. Monsieur Laurent, that this marriage is impossible. Even were I to consent to it, my wife would oppose it with all her strength. You don't yet know our Siska! Her ideas of duty are perhaps very singular, but very fixed. When once she has said that this is white and that is black, you can preach to her in vain, you cannot make her retract it … Do you know that she would think she were lacking in respect for the memory of your dear parents if she ever were to consent to an alliance between her family and yours? You are young, Monsieur Laurent, you have a nice little capital, you have had a good education, rich relatives may leave you their fortunes … and you will make a match worthy of that fortune, of your education and your name; a match in accordance with the hopes that your poor, dear, dead parents cherished for your future. Can you not see that your wealthy family would reproach Siska for having harnessed you to her daughter, would consider her an intriguer, a wretched intruder?…"
