d very often
to the tone of her voice; but he had not understood what her face
expressed, nor had he known what compass that voice would reach. Had
he been a wise man,--a man wise as to his own future comfort,--he
would have abandoned his present attempt after the lessons which he
was now learning. But, as has before been said, he had a temper, and
he was now angry with Linda. He was roused, and was disposed to make
her know that, old as he was, and bald, and forced to wear awkward
shoes, and to stump along heavily, still he could force her to become
his wife and to minister to his wants. He understood it all. He knew
what were his own deficiencies, and was as wide awake as was Linda
herself to the natural desires of a young girl. Madame Staubach was,
perhaps, equally awake, but she connected these desires directly with
the devil. Because it was natural that a young woman should love a
young man, therefore, according to the religious theory of Madame
Staubach, it was well that a young woman should marry an old man, so
that she might then be crushed and made malleable, and susceptible of
that teaching which tells us that all suffering in this world is good
for us. Now Peter Steinmarc was by no means alive to the truth of
such lessons as these. Religion was all very well. It was an outward
sign of a respectable life,--of a life in which men are trusted
and receive comfortable wages,--and, beyond that, was an innocent
occupation for enthusiastic women. But he had no idea that any human
being was bound to undergo crushing in this world for his soul's
sake. Had he not wished to marry Linda himself, it might be very well
that Linda should marry a young man. But now that Linda so openly
scorned him, had treated him with such plain-spoken contumely, he
thought it would be well that Linda should be crushed. Yes; and he
thought also that he might probably find a means of crushing her.

"I suppose, miss," he said, after pausing for some moments, "that the
meaning of this is that you have got a young lover?"

"I have got no young lover," said Linda; "and if I had, why shouldn't
I? What would that be to you?"

"It would be very much to me, if it be the young man I think. Yes, I
understand; you blush now. Very well. I shall know now how to manage
you;--or your aunt will know."

"I have got no lover," said Linda, in great anger; "and you are a
very wicked old man to say so."

"Then you had better receive me as your future husban