‘What right have you, sir,’ said Michel, nearly choked with wrath, ’to interfere in the affairs of my household?  You had better go, and go at once.  If you return again before they are married, I will tell the servants to put you off the place!’ George Voss made no answer, but having found his horse and his gig, drove himself off to Colmar.

CHAPTER XIV.

George Voss, as he drove back to Colmar and thought of what had been done during the last twenty-four hours, did not find that he had much occasion for triumph.  He had, indeed, the consolation of knowing that the girl loved him, and in that there was a certain amount of comfort.  As he had ever been thinking about her since he had left Granpere, so also had she been thinking of him.  His father had told him that they had been no more than children when they parted, and had ridiculed the idea that any affection formed so long back and at so early an age should have lasted.  But it had lasted; and was now as strong in Marie’s breast as it was in his own.  He had learned this at any rate by his journey to Granpere, and there was something of consolation in the knowledge.  But, nevertheless, he did not find that he could triumph.  Marie had been weak enough to yield to his father once, and would yield to him, he thought, yet again.  Women in this respect—­as he told himself—­were different from men.  They were taught by the whole tenor of their lives to submit,—­unless they could conquer by underhand unseen means, by little arts, by coaxing, and by tears.  Marie, he did not doubt, had tried all these, and had failed.  His father’s purpose had been too strong for her, and she had yielded.  Having submitted once, of course she would submit again.  There was about his father a spirit of masterfulness, which he was sure Marie would not be able to withstand.  And then there would be—­strong against his interests, George thought—­that feeling so natural to a woman, that as all the world had been told of her coming marriage, she would be bound to go through with it.  The idea of it had become familiar to her.  She had conquered the repugnance which she must at first have felt, and had made herself accustomed to regard this man as her future husband.  And then there would be Madame Voss against him, and M. le Cure,—­both of whom would think it infinitely better for Marie’s future welfare, that she should marry a Roman Catholic, as was Urmand, than a Protestant such as was he, George Voss.  And then the money!  Even if he could bring himself to believe that the money was nothing to Marie, it would be so much to all those by whom Marie would be surrounded, that it would be impossible that she should be preserved from its influence.