“Have it thine own way, good Gaetano—­have it as thou wilt, so thou dost but leave us the youth—­”

“Father—­”

“I will have no maidenly affectation, Adelheid I expect thee to receive the husband we offer with as good a grace as if he wore a crown.  It has been agreed upon between us that Sigismund Steinbach is to be my son; and from time immemorial, the daughters of our house have submitted, in these affairs, to what has been advised by the wisdom of their seniors, as became their sex and inexperience.”

The three old men had entered the hall full of good-humor, and it would have been sufficiently apparent, by the manner of the Baron de Willading, that he trifled with Adelheid, had it not been well known to the others that her feelings were chiefly consulted in the choice that had just been made.

But, notwithstanding the high glee in which the father spoke, the pleasure and buoyancy of his manner did not communicate itself to the child as quickly as he could wish.  There was far more than virgin embarrassment in the mien of Adelheid.  Her color went and came, and her look turned from one to the other painfully, while she struggled to speak.  The Signor Grimaldi whispered to his companions, and Roger de Blonay discreetly withdrew, under the pretence that his services were needed at Vevey, where active preparations were making for the Abbaye des Vignerons.  The Genoese would then have followed his example, but the baron held his arm, while he turned an inquiring eye towards his daughter, as if commanding her to deal more frankly with him.

“Father,” said Adelheid, in a voice that shook in spite of the effort to control her feelings, “I have something important to communicate, before this acceptance of Herr Steinbach is a matter irrevocably determined.”

“Speak freely, my child; this is a tried friend, and one entitled to know all that concerns us, especially in this affair.  Throwing aside all pleasantry, I trust, Adelheid, that we are to have no girlish trifling with a youth like Sigismund; to whom we owe so much, even to our lives, and in whose behalf we should be ready to sacrifice every feeling of prejudice, or habit—­all that we possess, ay, even to our pride.”

“All, father?”

“I have said all.  I will not take back a letter of the word, though it should rob me of Willading, my rank in the canton, and an ancient name to boot.  Am I not right, Gaetano?  I place the happiness of the boy above all other considerations, that of Adelheid being understood to be so intimately blended with his.  I repeat it, therefore, all.”

“It would be well to hear what the young lady has to say, before we urge this affair any farther;” said the Signor Grimaldi, who, having achieved no conquest over himself, was not quite so exuberant in his exultation as his friend; observing more calmly, and noting what he saw with the clearness of a cooler-headed and more sagacious man.  “I am much in error, or thy daughter has that which is serious, to communicate.”