"Look up, child! Speak
for thyself! Thou hast a spirit of thine own. Here is thy one earthly
relation. Wilt go with her? Neither thy mistress nor I will stand in the
way of thy pleasure."
Thus adjured Britta looked up so suddenly that Duprez,--who had rather
enjoyed the feel of her little nestling head hidden upon his arm,--was
quite startled, and he was still more so at the utter defiance that
flashed into the small maiden's round, rosy face.
"Go with _you_!" she cried shrilly, addressing the old woman, who
remained standing in the same attitude, with an air of perfect
composure. "Do you think I have forgotten how you treated my mother, or
how you used to beat me and starve me? You wicked old woman! How dare
you come here? I'm ashamed of you! You frightened my mother to
death--you know you did! . . . and now you want to do the same to me!
But you won't--I can tell you! I'm old enough to do as I like, and I'd
rather die than live with you!"
Then, overcome by excitement and temper, she burst out crying, heedless
of Pierre Duprez's smiling nods of approval, and the admiring remarks he
was making under his breath, such as--"_Brava, ma petite! C'est bien
fait! c'est joliment bien dit! Mais je crois bien!_"
Lovisa seemed unmoved; she raised her head and looked, at Gueldmar.
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