grasping his hand, full of inward joy).
And my daughter, baron! my daughter! (Letting go.) No, no! Money does
not make the man--whether I feed on vegetables or on partridges, enough
is enough, and this coat will do very well as long as the sunbeams don't
peep in at the elbows. To me money is mere dross. But my girl shall
benefit by the blessing; whatever wish I can read in her eyes shall be
gratified.

FERDINAND (suddenly interrupting him). Oh! silence! silence!

MILLER (still more warmly). And she shall learn to speak French like a
born native, and to dance minuets, and to sing, so that people shall read
of her in the newspapers; and she shall wear a cap like the judge's
daughter, and a kidebarri [meaning, no doubt, Cul de Paris, a bustle], as
they call it; and the fiddler's daughter shall be talked of for twenty
miles round.

FERDINAND. (seizing his hand in extreme agitation). No more! no more!
For God's sake be silent! Be silent but for this one night; 'tis the
only favor I ask of you.

SCENE VI.

LOUISA with a glass of lemonade; the former.

LOUISA (her eyes swelled with weeping, and trembling voice, while she
presents the glass to FERDINAND). Tell me, if it be not to your taste.

FERDINAND (takes the glass, places it on the table, and turns to MILLER).
Oh! I had almost forgotten! Good Miller, I have a request to make. Will
you do me a little favor?

MILLER. A thousand with pleasure! What are your commands?

FERDINAND. My father will expect me at table. Unfortunately I am in
very ill humor. 'Twould be insupportable to me just now to mix in
society. Will you go to my father and excuse my absence?

LOUISA (terrified, interrupts him hastily). Oh, let me go!

MILLER. Am I to see the president himself?

FERDINAND. Not himself. Give your message to one of the servants in the
ante-chamber. Here is my watch as a credential that I sent you. I shall
be here when you return. You will wait for an answer.

LOUISA (very anxiously). Cannot I be the bearer of your message?

FERDINAND (to MILLER, who is going). Stay--one thing more! Here is a
letter to my father, which I received this evening enclosed in one to
myself. Perhaps on business of importance. You may as well deliver it
at the same time.

MILLER (going). Very well, baron!

LOUISA (stopping him, and speaking in a tone of the most exquisite
terror). But, dear father, I could do all this very well! Pray let
me go!

MILLER. It is night, my child! a