he firm and
was at present in Switzerland for his health and recreation, wrote that
the boy had already borrowed money from him several times. Not that he
would not gladly give him it, that did not matter to him in the
slightest, but still he considered it his duty--&c., &c.

"The fact is, dear Schlieben, the boy has got into a fast set. I'm
awfully sorry to have to tell tales about him, but I cannot put it off
any longer, as he goes to others just as well as he comes to me. And it
would be extremely painful, of course, if the son of Messrs. Schlieben
& Co., to whom I still count myself as belonging with the old devotion,
should become common talk. Don't take it amiss, old friend. I make the
boy a present of all he owes me; I am fond of him and have also been
young. But I am quite pleased to have no children, it is a deucedly
difficult job to train one. Good-bye, remember me very kindly to your
wife, it is splendid here ..."

The man stared over the top of the paper with a frown; this letter,
which had been written with such good intentions and was so kind, hurt
him. It hurt him that Wolfgang had so little confidence in him with
respect to this matter. Was he not straightforward? He remembered very
distinctly that he had always been truthful as a child, had been so
outspoken as to offend--he had been rude, but never given to lying.
Could he have changed so now? How was that, and why?

The man resolved not to mention anything about the letter, but to
ask Wolfgang when he found an opportunity--but it must be as soon as
possible--in what condition his money matters were. Then he would
hear.

He quite longed to ask the question, and still he did not
say a word when Wolfgang entered the private room soon afterwards
without knocking, as all the others did, and with all the careless
assurance of a son. He sat down astride on his father's writing-desk,
quite unmindful of the fact that his light trousers came into
unpleasant contact with the ink-stand. The air out of doors was clear
and the sun shone brightly; he brought a large quantity of both with
him into the room that was always kept dark, cool and secluded.

"Had something to vex you, pater?" What fancies could the old
gentleman have got hold of now? Certainly nothing of importance. On the
whole, who could feel vexed in such delightful, pleasant summer
weather?

Wolfgang loved the sun. As he had gazed admiringly at the small copy
of it when a child, the round yello