Feuerstein.

Hilda, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed, put herself
between Mr. Feuerstein and the door. ``I guess I've got
something to say about that!'' she exclaimed. ``Father, you
can't make me marry Otto Heilig. I HATE him. I guess this is a
free country. I shall marry Mr. Feuer--Carl.'' She went up to
him and put her arm through his and looked up at him lovingly.
He drew her to him protectingly, and for an instant something of
her passionate enthusiasm fired him, or rather, the actor in him.

Otto laid his hand on Brauner's arm.

``Don't you see, sir,'' he said in Low-German, very earnestly,
``that you're driving her to him? I beg you''--in a lower tone
--``for the sake of her future--don't drive him out, and her with
him. If he really would make her a good husband, why not let her
have him? If he's not what he claims, she won't have him.''

Brauner hesitated. ``But she's yours. Her mother and I have
promised. We are people of our word.''

``But I won't marry her--not unless she wishes it, she herself.
And nothing can be done until this man has had a chance.''

It was evident from Brauner's face that he was yielding to this
common sense. Hilda looked at Otto gratefully. ``Thank you,
Otto,'' she said. He shook his head mournfully and turned away.

Brauner gave Mr. Feuerstein a contemptuous glance. ``Perhaps