o the corner.

While this was going on, Edmund had been scumbling angrily at the
background of his picture. But at this point he could contain himself
no longer.

"Damned, infernal scoundrel!" he cried, and flew at Tussmann, making
four dashes over his face with the brush, full of a greyish green tint,
which he had been working at his background with. Then he grasped him,
opened the door, and sent him out of it with a kick so forcible that he
went flying down stairs like an arrow out of a bow.

Bosswinkel, who was just coming up, started back in much alarm as this
school-chum of his came bumping into his arms.

"What in the name of all that's----" he cried; "what's going on? what
ails your face?" Tussmann, almost out of his mind, related all that had
happened, in broken phrases; how Albertine had behaved to him--how
Edmund had treated him. The Commissionsrath, brimful of rage and fury,
took Tussmann by the hand and led him back to the room.

"What's all this?" he cried to Albertine. "This is very pretty
behaviour; is this the way you treat your husband that is to be?"

"My husband that is to be?" echoed Albertine, in wild amazement.

"Most undoubtedly!" the Commissionsrath answered. "I don't know why you
should pretend to be in a state of mind about a matter which has been
understood and arranged for such a long time. My dear old friend
Tussmann is your affianced husband, and the wedding will come off in a
week or two."

"_Never!_" said Albertine. "Never will I marry him. Good heavens! how
could anybody have _that_ old creature; nobody could ever bear him."

"I don't know about 'bearing' him, or whether he's an 'old creature' or
not," said her father. "What you have got to do is to marry him.
Certainly my friend Tussmann is not one of your giddy young fools. Like
myself, he has reached those years of discretion when a man is, very
properly, considered to be at his best; and into the bargain, he is a
fine, upright, straightforward, honourable fellow, most profoundly
learned, perfectly eligible, in every way, and my old schoolfellow."

"No!" cried Albertine, in the utmost agitation, with the tears starting
to her eyes. "I can't endure him. He's insupportable to me. I hate him!
I abhor him! Oh, Edmund!"

She sank, almost fainting, into Edmund's arms; and he pressed her to
his heart with the warmest affection.

The Commissionsrath, utterly amazed, opened his eyes as wide as if he
were seeing spectres, and then