"All tomfoolery!" he blustered. "There isn't any nobility in your
country, nor have you five dollars all told to rub against each other.
If you had, you wouldn't come over here to play the gallant to women who
are . . . you know what they are as well as I do."
To the astonishment of Desnoyers, the German received this onslaught
with much humility, nodding his head in agreement with the Patron's last
words.
"If there's any truth in all this twaddle about titles," continued
Madariaga implacably, "swords and uniforms, what did you come here for?
What in the devil did you do in your own country that you had to leave
it?"
Now Karl hung his head, confused and stuttering.
"Papa, papa," pleaded Elena. "The poor little fellow! How can you
humiliate him so just because he is poor?"
And she felt a deep gratitude toward her brother-in-law when he broke
through his usual reserve in order to come to the rescue of the German.
"Oh, yes, of course, he's a good-enough fellow," said Madariaga,
excusing himself. "But he comes from a land that I detest."
When Desnoyers made a trip to Buenos Aires a few days afterward, the
cause of the old man's wrath was explained. It appeared that for some
months past Madariaga had been the financial guarantor and devoted swain
of a German prima donna stranded in South America with an Italian opera
company.
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