"Aha! You're already counting on my death?" he shouted, and began to rage and storm again. "Do you want me to lay myself in my grave alive, so that you can round off your estate with Krakowitz? I suppose it has been a thorn in your eyes a long time, my beautiful Krakowitz has." There was no use struggling against such a bundle of unreason, so I determined upon force. "This is my ultimatum, father," I said, "settlement and reconciliation with Lothar Puetz are the sole conditions upon which I enter your family. If you don't agree I shall have to ask Iolanthe to set me free." That brought him round. "A man can't express the least little bit of feeling to you," he said. "I think of your children, the poor unborn little mites, and you immediately think of breaking your engagement and all that sort of thing. If you insist, I won't interfere with your pleasure. I have no personal feelings against Lothar Puetz. On the contrary, I'm told he is a magnificent fellow, a smart rider, a dashing young sport. But my dear man, I'll give you a good piece of advice. You're going to have a young girl for your wife. If she were not my own daughter and so raised above suspicion, I should suggest, 'Pick a quarrel with him, make him your enemy, insist upon payment of old loans instead of making a new one.' Nothing so sure as a sure thing, you know." Gentlemen, until then I had taken him humorously, but from that moment on I hated him. Just let the wedding be over, then I'd shake him off. There was still one difficult thing to do, convince Lothar that the old fellow admitted he had been wrong and had decided to give up the suit. The coup succeeded. It surprised Lothar so little that he even forgot to thank me. Very well, all the same to me! I've already told you enough about Iolanthe. The tissue of such a relation, with its attempts at intimacy and its chills, with its ebb and flow of confidence and timidity, hope and despair, is too finely woven for my coarse hands to try to spread it out before you. To her credit be it said, she honestly attempted to accommodate herself to me. She tried to discover my likes and dislikes. She even tried to adapt her thoughts to mine. Unfortunately she could not find very much there. Where she in the freshness of her mind took it for granted that there were live interests, there was often nothing but land long before turned waste. That is what is so horrible about growing old. It slowly deadens one nerve after the other. As we approach the fifties, both work and rest conspire to make an end of us. Just then red neckties were in fashion. I wore a red necktie, and also pointed boots, and silk lapels on my coat. I presented Iolanthe with rich gifts, a pearl necklace, which cost three thousand dollars, and a famous solitaire that had come up for auction in Paris. Every day roses and orchids were shipped to her from my hothouses--but by express, because my flowers were less valuable than my colts.