“You express yourself very freely,” said Frau Regine, angrily.  “But what does a man know of a mother’s love or of the gratitude of children?  You are all an ungrateful, heedless, selfish—­”

“Hold!  I have something to say for my own sex,” von Schoenau began excitedly.  Suddenly, however, he leaned forward and said in a changed tone: 

“We haven’t seen each other for seven months, Regine, so don’t let’s quarrel the very first day we meet.  We can do that any time, you know.  We won’t discuss that obstinate heir of Burgsdorf, but speak of ourselves.  How do you like life in the city?  To me you hardly seem contented.”

“I am very well contented,” declared Regine with great decision.  “All I miss is the work; I am not accustomed to an idle life.”

“Of course you miss it.  You always have been at the head of a great establishment, and that’s where you should be now, so I—­”

“Don’t begin again, I beg you.”

“No, I don’t mean Burgsdorf this time,” said von Schoenau, looking down at his riding boots.  “I only meant—­you’re all alone in the city, and I’m all alone at Fuerstenstein, and when Toni marries, it will be very weary.  Would it not be better—­oh, I’ve said it all to you before—­perhaps you won’t, perhaps you have a better offer in view, but—­wouldn’t it be better to have a triple instead of a double marriage?”

Frau von Eschenhagen looked darkly on the ground and shook her head.

“No, Moritz, I never was less in the humor for marrying than now.”

“Another refusal !” cried the head forester impatiently.  “This makes the second time.  First you would not have me because you had your son and your beloved Burgsdorf to look after, now you won’t have me because you are not in the humor.  Humors have nothing to do with marrying, only common sense; but when a woman hasn’t any sense, and is too stubborn to—­”

“You’re in a very flattering mood, I must say,” interrupted Regine, thoroughly aroused now.  “It would be a very peaceful marriage, with you wagging your sharp tongue all the time.”

“It wouldn’t be peaceful.  I never expected that,” Schoenau declared, “but neither would it be monotonous.  I believe we could endure one another.  Now, once for all, Regine, will you have me or will you not?”

“No, I don’t care to enter into a marriage of endurance.”

“So be it!” cried the head forester, furious now as he jumped up and seized his hat.  “If it gives you such pleasure to be eternally saying no, why say it.  Willibald will marry and he is right, and now I’ll do everything to hurry on his marriage just to annoy you.”  So saying he left the room in a violent temper, slamming the door behind him as he went, while Frau Regine remained behind equally irritated.  These two were apparently fated to quarrel whenever they met; it seemed a necessity of their natures, but no quarrel was so bitter that peace could not be established at their next meeting.