We stayed up, talking, nearly all that night, and Wickham Brand described one scene within his recent experiences which must have been sensational. It was when he announced to the family von Kreuzenach that he loved Elsa and desired her hand in marriage. Brand’s sense of humour came back to him when he told me of this episode, and he laughed now at the frightfulness of his ordeal. It was he who had insisted upon announcing the news to Elsa’s parents, to avoid any charge of dishonesty. Elsa herself was in favour of hiding their love until Peace was declared, when perhaps the passionate hostility of her parents to England might be abated. For Brand’s sake also she thought it would be better. But she yielded to his argument that secrecy might spoil the beauty of their friendship, and give it an ugly taint. “We’ll go through with it straight from the start,” he had cried. Elsa’s answer was quick and glad. “I have no fear now of anything in the world except the loss of you!” Franz von Kreuzenach was the first to know, and Elsa told him. He seemed stunned with surprise, and then immensely glad, as he took his sister in his arms and kissed her. “Your marriage with an English officer,” he said, “will be the symbol of reconciliation between England and Germany.” After that he remembered his father and mother, and was a coward at the thought of their hostility. The idea of telling his father, as Elsa asked him to do, put him into what Brand called “the bluest of blue funk.” He had the German reverence for parental authority and though he went as far as the door-handle of his father’s study, he retreated, and said in a boyish way, speaking in English, as usual, with Brand and his sister: “I haven’t the pluck! I would rather face shell-fire than my father’s wrath.” It was Brand who “went over the top.” He made his announcement formally, in the drawing-room after dinner, in the curiously casual way which proved him a true Englishman. He cleared his throat (he told me, grinning at his own mannerism), and during a gap in the conversation said to the General: “By the way, sir, I have something rather special to mention to-night.” “_Bitte?_” said the old General, with his hard, deliberate courtesy. “Your daughter and I,” said Brand, “wish to be married as soon as possible. I have the honour to ask your consent.” Brand told me of the awful silence which followed his statement. It seemed interminable. Franz von Kreuzenach, who was present, was as white as though he had been condemned to death by court-martial. Elsa was speechless, but came over to Brand’s side and held his hand. Her mother had the appearance of a lady startled by the sudden appearance of a poisonous snake. The General sat back in his chair, grasping its arms and gasping for breath as though Brand had hit him in the stomach. It was the mother who spoke first, and ignoring Brand completely, she addressed her daughter harshly. “You are mad, Elsa!”