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the expected fury, the Landrat's
face was grave. Cat thought she'd never seen her father look so cold.
    "The law, Caterina, says that you are
mine and just exactly like those mares. You know that our lands will revert to
my cousin's family when I die, as it seems I am fated to do, without sons. By
God, girl, my name may vanish, but that good black earth down by the river shall
not pass away from my blood!"
    The Landrat was like a mountain peak in a
storm, scowling, intractable. It took all Cat's strength to speak again.
    "But Papa—Christoph is a rake, and—oh,
I despise him."
    "Enough, Caterina. Our cousin was unkind to Wili, unkind and thoughtless. I know you
grieve for your sister. We all do, but see what ruin delay has brought us! If
I'd forced them to it last summer, why, my heart near cracks when I
remember..."
    "But, but—I'm not ready to be married.
Mama will tell you." In the face of his stony resolve, Caterina was
prepared to humble herself
    "I know, Caterina, but it can't be
helped. Now just remember that I am your father. Yes, if you like, your master,
and I say you shall marry him."
    "I won't! I can't!"
    "Too late I see," her father
roared, "you are nothing but an ungrateful brat! By Christ and all his
Saints, you shall do as I say!" The Landrat's head spun. The death of one
beloved child, the defiance of the other! One huge hand came flying, but Cat was so furious that the head-rattling slap didn't stop
her.
    "Hit me! Go on!" Cornered, she
feared nothing, not even her father's towering rage. "I shan't marry that
lying rake. I shan't!"
    Her father, who had hold of her arm,
slapped again. Cat's head rang.
    "Wilhelm! Have you lost your mind? You
wouldn't treat a serving girl—or even a dog this way." Lady von Hagen
flung herself upon her husband's thick arm.
    "A serving girl wouldn't act the way
this hussy does! Not a creature on two legs or four acts—she thinks she's
master here!" The Landrat panted, his square face was purple.
    "I won't marry him! I won't!" Cat
repeated, still struggling with all her might and main to escape.
    "Shame! Shame on you both!" Her mother cried. "Caterina! How dare you defy your father?"
    "Damn her! She has driven me
mad!"
    "Leave this room at once, sir,"
Lady von Hagen exclaimed, "and let me speak to my daughter alone."
    "Your daughter? Entirely yours, I think! The red-headed
she-devil!"
    "Wilhelm! How dare you?" Lady von
Velsen gave her own red head an imperious, wild horse toss.
    Faced by two outraged and exceedingly tall
women, the Landrat prudently retreated. The bedroom door crashed shut behind
him and then the key ground with awful finality in the large, square lock.

 
    * * *

 
    "Oh, Mama! Please don't let him make me marry Christoph." Caterina threw
herself into her mother's arms. It wasn't unusual for girls of sixteen to be
married, but up till this moment Cat had considered marriage only the remotest
possibility. Now it was rushing in with all the finality of a death sentence.
    Lady von Velsen soothed her daughter,
stroked the flaming hair and reflected with melancholy upon how long it had
been since she'd had the pleasure of holding this fiercely independent child in
her arms. Finally, she took Cat's chin in her hand, tipped it up to gaze into
her eyes, so exactly like her own.
    "If you're ready now, Caterina Maria
Brigitte, we'll talk. And I will talk first, because I'm your mama."
    She drew her daughter towards the window
seat, the place where Cat had endured so many maternal lectures. When
Caterina's red head nestled against her shoulder, Lady von Velsen began.
    "You're going to have to grow up now,
grow up faster and harder than I'd choose, but there's nothing else to be done.
This is a terrible thing for us all, for your papa, too, you must believe it,
to think of a wedding when we should all be grieving. Duty will carry us
through. Duty, Caterina! Everyone's duty—yours, mine, Papa's, and young von
Hagen's too, for at last he seems understand his."
    Caterina