He frowned, and his handsome face darkened. "It seems that I cannot expect from you that delicacy of feeling which you must possess if you are ever to deserve my affection. But since you are my sister, and really not to blame for your imperfections--because it is the duty of parents to attend to their children's education, and yours, I mean ours, have neglected that important thing entirely--I will answer your question about the money. You are perfectly right in suspecting that I have not a single penny, but let me tell you that I would much rather walk all the distance from here to Vienna than bring myself to accept another sou from the man who, on account of a strange accident, is entitled to call himself my father. I have tried to find out when the goods-train leaves for Vienna, and have decided to hide myself in it." I shook my head in horror. "No, never!" I cried; "you must not do that. I have got some money," and I pressed the rest of my ten shillings, which I had carefully wrapped up in a piece of white paper, into his hand; whereupon I detected signs of both anger and pity on his face. "Surely," he said, "I should be a scoundrel of the meanest order if I touched this small sum of yours. Far be it from me to do such a thing;" and he put the money back into my hand. "It is true," he added, "that you have shown great tactlessness again, but I will forgive you this time." Almost immediately he was gone, and although I was standing in the street, I began to cry most piteously, regretting my poverty, my lack of nobleness, even my very existence. I felt convinced that my brother was not only an artist, but also a hero and a martyr. Chapter VII The situation in which I started soon after these events differed somewhat from my first one. There were only three children, a second maid--the cook--and instead of eight shillings I was promised ten shillings a month. My duties were the same as before. I had to wash up the dishes, to scrub the floor, and to take out the children as soon as I had finished the housework. My new charges behaved much better than the children of the manager, and I liked them all very much. The cook, too, was nice. Neither in speech nor in manner was she objectionable, and sometimes I used to read out my poems to her. She seemed to be very fond of the verses, and often asked to hear them again. That made me very happy. But after some months had passed away, and I became used to the change, I was conscious again of the old well-known feeling of dissatisfaction and loneliness. Frequently I used to sit down in a corner and sob without knowing what was the matter. I was careful not to let the mistress see my tears, but could not always hide them from the cook, who was nearly always with me. She had asked me already what I was crying for, but I could give no explanation.