He loves me, and I have accepted his love as the most precious, most beautiful, and most glorious gift of my life.

Ah! do not look so angry with me, father; I cannot say otherwise.

I cannot crush or deny the inmost life of my life .-- Oh, mother, forgive me that I cannot change it! You know that otherwise I have been a most obedient daughter to you in all things, although you have never taught me the happiness of possessing a loving mother; though neither of you could ever forgive your only child for not being a son, who could inherit your name, and win a brilliant position, yet I have always loved you tenderly and truly, and never complained that the unwelcome daughter received neither love nor tenderness, only indifference and coldness from her parents." "Beautiful, very beautiful!" replied the mother, contemptuously.
"Now you wish to blame us that you are a heartless and thankless daughter .-- We have not understood her heart, and it is our fault that her love has flown somewhere else.
"This is the language of romance.

I have, indeed, read it in the romances of Herr Moritz, and my daughter has only repeated what she learned as a docile pupil from her schoolmaster.

Very fine, to pay Herr Moritz to form our daughter into the heroine of a romance! She ought to have learned the languages, but has learned only the language of romances." "You are very severe and very cruel, mother," said Marie, sadly.