CHAPTER XV.
HATE AND LOVE "Herr Conrector Moritz wishes to pay his respects," called out Trude again.
"We do not wish to receive him," cried Frau von Werrig.
"He dare not presume to enter!" shrieked the general.
Marie cried, "Moritz! Oh! my beloved Moritz," rushing with outstretched arms toward her lover, who just appeared at the door.

"God has sent you to sustain me in this fearful hour." Old Trude peeped through the half-closed door, well satisfied to see her dear young lady folded in Moritz's arms, and her head leaning upon his shoulder.

"Yes," she murmured, closing softly the door, "Marie is right, God himself sent her lover in this hour, and I would not let her wicked, hard-hearted parents send him away." Quick as thought she turned the key, fastening the door, and betook herself to the farthest room, carefully closing every door between them.
"Now we will see for once whether they will show him the door, and pitch him out.

No, they will be obliged to listen to him.

Old Trude wishes it, for it will make her dear Marie happy.