y own daughter slams the
door in my face, and my other, my adopted daughter, who ought at least
to honor me as her educator and natural protector, runs away from me.
It comes all in a heap, to turn my hair gray before its time!"
"But why did you let her go? Why did you permit her--"
"Permit her! As if she asked for my permission! Just think of it, it
was _she_, on the contrary, who gave me permission to remain here a
while longer, in order that I might arrange my affairs 'in peace,' as
she expressed it, before following her--which, again, I am not to do
until I receive her express permission! Alas! my dear Fraeulein, have I
remained a bachelor, and manfully withstood all the fascinations of
your sex, merely to be put under the control of two grown daughters in
my old age?"
"Do tell me what reason Irene gave you for this sudden decision?" Julie
asked, after a pause.
"You are very good to suppose she would consider it worth while to give
me reasons!" cried the old gentleman. "Well-educated children are
accustomed to do whatever they feel like, and not to hand in a long
account to their foolish papas. That that rascal, Felix, is at the
bottom of it all--so much I have worked out by my talent for
combination. Last night she went to bed in the best of spirits, and
even condescended to give me a dutiful kiss, whose value I knew how to
appreciate because of its rarity. Early this morning, while I was
sitting here waiting for her to come to breakfast, a note arrived from
her _fiance_. I send it in to her, not suspecting anything out of the
way, and a half hour passes before I discover what the trouble is. All
at once the door opens, and my Fraeulein niece appears in complete
traveling-rig. 'Uncle,' she says--and her face is as pale and as set as
a wax doll's--'I am going to start off for Innsbruck by the next train.
I beg you not to ask the reason. You may be sure that I have considered
the matter maturely' (maturely! Only think of it, dear Fraeulein, a
whole half hour!) 'and, as I know that you won't be able to tear
yourself away from here so quickly, I sha'n't think of asking you to
accompany me. It will be sufficient if Louisa goes with me. I shall
make my first stop in Riva. From there I will write to you when you are
to follow. I'--and at this point her voice grew a little unsteady--'I
want to be alone for a while. You may say good-by for me to such of my
acquaintances as you see fit. Be sure and remember me most p
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