father, who had died so long ago.

The Eysvogel dwelling, with its showy escutcheon above the door, was
threatened by want, and hand in hand with it, he knew, the most hideous
of all her children--disgrace.

Now he also remembered what he himself had done to increase the peril
menacing the ancient commercial house. Perhaps the old man within was
relying upon the estate of Tannenreuth, which he had assigned to him, to
protect some post upon which much depended, and he had gambled it away.
This must now be confessed, and also the amount of his own debts.

An unpleasant task confronted him but, humiliating and harassing as was
the interview awaiting him beyond the threshold before which he still
lingered, at least he would not find Wolff there. This seemed a boon,
since for the first time he would have felt himself in the wrong in the
presence of his unloved brother-in-law. Even the burden of his debts
weighed less heavily on his conscience than the irritating words with
which he had induced his father-in-law to break off Wolff's betrothal to
Els Ortlieb. The act was base and malicious. Greatly as he had erred,
he had never before been guilty of such a deed, and with a curse upon
himself on his bearded lips he approached the door; but when half way to
it he stopped again and looked up to the second-story windows behind
which the twins slept. With what delight he had always thought of them!
But this time the recollection of the little boys was spoiled by Countess
Cordula's message to his wife to rear them so that they would not be like
him, their father.

An evil wish! And yet the warmest love could have devised no better one
in behalf of the true welfare of the boys.