CHAPTER VIII.
A HOUSE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF.
After Conrad Chenoweth's departure, the Burgomaster summoned his daughter to his presence.
“Hilvardine,” he said abruptly, “I have promised your hand to the Chancellor of Brabant, Engelbert Maas. We settled the marriage contract this evening.”
“Oh, father!” cried Hilvardine, “do not force me into a union which is so hateful to me. I had rather be torn into pieces than wed this man.”
“And why, forsooth?” said the Burgomaster impatiently. “You have got to marry some one, and I have seen to it that you are provided with a husband who is old enough and rich enough to take care of you handsomely. To be sure, I like not the Chancellor overmuch myself. He drinks hard and he spends his money too freely at the gaming-table, yet there are scores of women who could dance for joy had he chosen them instead of you. The social postition of the wife of the Chancellor of Brabant is unquestioned. And besides all else, the man is
