The girls were lively, intelligent, splendidly educated. They were
in love with society and court functions, but deeply rebellious at the
attitude of the German male, and determined never to marry. That is to
say the three younger girls; the oldest had married a tame puppy, and
anything less like a tyrant I never beheld. No American husband could be
more subservient. But there was no question that he belonged to a small
exceptional class: while his wife, with all the dominating qualities of
her father, was one of a rapidly increasing number of German women,
silently but firmly rebellious.
The Herr baron was a typical Prussian aristocrat and autocrat. The girls
could hardly have had less liberty in a convent. When they came from
their hotel to mine he escorted them over and often came in. Luckily he
liked me or I never should have had the opportunity to know them as well
as I did. Nor should I have been able to continue the acquaintance
after the day I wickedly induced them to run away with me to Copenhagen,
where we shopped, promenaded all the principal streets, then took ices
on the terrace of one of the restaurants. When we returned he was
storming up and down the platform of the station, and he fairly raved at
the girls. "And you dared, you dared, to go to Copenhagen, without
permission, without your mother, without me!" The girls listened meekly,
but whenever he wheeled laughed behind his military back.
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