I see that you have yielded
at last--"
"I have not yielded in the least!" cried Faustina, suddenly facing
him, with an expression he had never seen before.
"What do you mean?" asked Montevarchi in considerable
astonishment.
"What I say. I will not marry Frangipani--I will not! Do you
understand?"
"No. I do not understand such language from my daughter; and as
for your determination, I tell you that you will most certainly
end by acting as I wish you to act."
"You cannot force me to marry. What can you do? You can put me
into a convent. Do you think that would make me change my mind? I
would thank God for any asylum in which I might find refuge from
such tyranny."
"My daughter," replied the prince in bland tones, "I am fully
resolved not to be angry with you. Your undutiful conduct proceeds
from ignorance, which is never an offence, though it is always a
misfortune. If you will have a little patience--"
"I have none!" exclaimed Faustina, exasperated by her father's
manner. "My undutiful conduct does not proceed from ignorance--it
proceeds from love, from love for another man, whom I will marry
if I marry any one."
"Faustina!" cried Montevarchi, holding up his hands in horror and
amazement. "Do you dare to use SUCH, language to your father!"
"I dare do anything, everything--I dare even tell you the name of
the man I love--Anastase Gouache!"
"My child! My child! This is too horrible! I must really send for
your mother.
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