[Gertrude _runs towards him_. Marie _takes a few steps, then hesitates and stops_.]
[_Pulling him, as she runs towards him_.] Oh, George!!! [_Then_] Confound you!
[_Lovingly_.] Now listen to me, little one. Such language may be excusable in your papa, but never in my bride.
[_Pouting_.] Everything I say seems to displease you. You never find fault with Marie! You can go and marry her!!!
Yes, papa is angry with you, too. He is looking for you!
Yes, what was I to find? But, children, your tulip-tree is certainly a strange fellow. There he stands, blooming alone, like the last rose of summer----
My great-grandfather brought it from South America!
[_To_ Marie.] And that is why you love it so, because it is so foreign and strange?
I'm going to tell on you. One day papa took her to the Opera, down in the city; there they saw the African----
In that play occurs a poison-tree--I think----
Yes, yes; and whosoever inhales the odor of its blossoms must die. And do you know what she did? Oh, yes, I did the same--we would go to this tree, smell of its blossoms, and lay down----
Now you can imagine, George, how long ago that must have been.
Yes, it was long, long ago. But about four years ago, one day Marie really wanted to die very badly.
[Marie _casts a frightened glance at_ George, _who returns it thoughtfully_.]
No, no, thank heaven. Now, little one, run along and tell papa that I am here.
No; I think I will remain here a little while longer.
[_Quickly and suppressed_.] Did you find her? [George _nods_.] Will she come? Why don't you answer?
Marie, when you exacted this promise from me this morning, I did not realize what it meant. I had never seen your--I don't want to speak that word--I had never seen this person until to-day. She must not come to this house, secretly--she must not!!!
Take uncle into your confidence, at least.
What do you want with her? You know you belong to this house. Here you have everything your heart desires. Here you have love--here you have----
[_Interrupts him_.] Bread! Why don't you say it? Yes, here I have bread!
No; but I did! And do I not earn it, as well as the little love I obtain in this house? I am "The Calamity Child"--and I do not ask for charity.
You seem to be possessed of the very devil to-day!