"Who is the scoundrel?" the Freiherr exclaimed, indignantly.
"You do an excellent old man great injustice, Herr Baron," Lucie replied, with a smile. "He is a man of honour, but the victim of a prejudice which so possesses him that he cannot conquer it sufficiently to call a Prussian his son-in-law."
"Then he does not love his child!" the Freiherr eagerly asserted, and then suddenly paused and eyed Lucie suspiciously. "Stop! stop, child!" he said. "I begin to suspect that you have been playing your own little game with me. Honestly, what has all this to do with your request?"
"Will you really not be angry with me, Herr Baron, if I speak perfectly frankly to you?" Lucie asked, laying her little hand on the old man's brown, wrinkled fist, and bestowing upon him one of her charming smiles.
"Little flatterer, how can any one be angry with you? Oh, you have the old bear fast in your toils, and now come, tell me all about it."
"You shall hear, Herr Baron. First read this note which I received not an hour ago from Herr von Poseneck; it will tell you all, and when you have finished I will tell you how it came to be written."
The Baron read Kurt's note, while Lucie noted with keen anxiety every change in his features as he read. She saw his face darken, and then a smile dawned about his mouth; he was not very angry. She could have shouted for joy at her victory.
"A most interesting production!" the Freiherr said, he handed the note back to her. "Really, this Herr von Poseneck----"
"Wait until you hear all, Herr Baron, and then judge," Lucie interrupted him.
And she went on to tell the old Freiherr how Celia had accidentally made the young man's acquaintance; how, in her childlike innocence and trust, she had grown to love him, and how, at last, chance had betrayed her secret. She told how Kurt had given his promise never to see Celia without her governess's consent, and how faithfully he had kept his word. "And now for my request, Herr Baron," she said, in conclusion. "I know it will be hard for you to grant it, but I hope everything from your magnanimity. Let me take Celia with me; she knows nothing of this note, and if you refuse me she shall know nothing; but you will not be so cruel. There must be a farewell,--a last farewell. May not Celia go with me?"