"And that of the feather-brush, to show that, according to promise, we
kept up our spirits during his absence."

"Write to him, sister? no, he is to write to us, and we are not to answer
his letters."

"True! well then, I have an idea. Let us address letters to him here,
Dagobert can put them into the post, and, on his return, our father will
read our correspondence."

"That will be charming! What nonsense we will write to him, since he
takes pleasure in it!"

"And we, too, like to amuse ourselves."

"Oh, certainly! father's last words have given us so much courage."

"As I listened to them, I felt quite reconciled to his going."

"When he said to us: 'My children, I will confide in you all I can. I go
to fulfill a sacred duty, and I must be absent for some time; for though,
when I was blind enough to doubt your affection, I could not make up my
mind to leave you, my conscience was by no means tranquil. Grief takes
such an effect on us, that I had not the strength to come to a decision,
and my days were passed in painful hesitation. But now that I am certain
of your tenderness, all this irresolution has ceased, and I understand
how one duty is not to be sacrificed to another, and that I have to
perform two duties at once, both equally sacred; and this I now do with
joy, and delight, and courage!'"