"What has she done!" exclaimed Gerhardt, his excitement growing under the strain he was enduring, and speaking almost unaccented English in consequence.
"She is running around the streets at night when she oughtn't to be.
I don't want my daughter taken out after dark by a man of your age. What do you want with her anyway? She is only a child yet."
"Want!" said the Senator, straining to regain his ruffled dignity.
"I want to talk with her, of course.
She is old enough to be interesting to me.
I want to marry her if she will have me."
"I want you to go out of here and stay out of here," returned the father, losing all sense of logic, and descending to the ordinary level of parental compulsion.
"I don't want you to come around my house any more.
I have enough trouble without my daughter being taken out and given a bad name."
"I tell you frankly," said the Senator, drawing himself up to his full height, "that you will have to make clear your meaning.
I have done nothing that I am ashamed of.
Your daughter has not come to any harm through me.
Now, I want to know what you mean by conducting yourself in this manner."
"I mean," said Gerhardt, excitedly repeating himself, "I mean, I mean that the whole neighborhood talks about how you come around here, and have buggy-rides and walks with my daughter when I am not here—that's what I mean.
I mean that you are no man of honorable intentions, or you would not come taking up with a little girl who is only old enough to be your daughter.
People tell me well enough what you are.
Just you go and leave my daughter alone."
"People!" said the Senator.
"Well, I care nothing for your people.
I love your daughter, and I am here to see her because I do love her.
It is my intention to marry her, and if your neighbors have anything to say to that, let them say it.
There is no reason why you should conduct yourself in this manner before you know what my intentions are."
Unnerved by this unexpected and terrible altercation, Jennie had backed away to the door leading out into the dining-room, and her mother, seeing her, came forward.
"Oh," said the latter, breathing excitedly, "he came home when you were away.
What shall we do?"
They clung together, as women do, and wept silently.
The dispute continued.
"Marry, eh," exclaimed the father. "Is that it?"
"Yes," said the Senator, "marry, that is exactly it.
Your daughter is eighteen years of age and can decide for herself.
You have insulted me and outraged your daughter's feelings.
Now, I wish you to know that it cannot stop here.
If you have any cause to say anything against me outside of mere hearsay I wish you to say it."
The Senator stood before him, a very citadel of righteousness.
He was neither loud-voiced nor angry-mannered, but there was a tightness about his lips which bespoke the man of force and determination.
"I don't want to talk to you any more," returned Gerhardt, who was checked but not overawed.
"My daughter is my daughter.
I am the one who will say whether she shall go out at night, or whether she shall marry you, either.
I know what you politicians are.
When I first met you I thought you were a fine man, but now, since I see the way you conduct yourself with my daughter, I don't want anything more to do with you.
Just you go and stay away from here. That's all I ask of you."
"I am sorry, Mrs. Gerhardt," said Brander, turning deliberately away from the angry father, "to have had such an argument in your home.
I had no idea that your husband was opposed to my visits.
However, I will leave the matter as it stands for the present.
You must not take all this as badly as it seems."
Gerhardt looked on in astonishment at his coolness.
"I will go now," he said, again addressing Gerhardt, "but you mustn't think that I am leaving this matter for good.
You have made a serious mistake this evening.
I hope you will realize that.