"I am travelling down to Vienna."
"But you have got no money!"
His lips closed, and the winning smile vanished.
"I can see," he retorted, "that you are backward in every way. The thing you most lack, and that you need to acquire first, is tactfulness. Because, alas! one of our family happens to have no feeling at all, do you really expect everybody to be in the same miserable state? Always be careful, I tell you, about mentioning anything that might recall occurrences or situations of a distressing character. A certain pride exists, which is alive even within the most pitiable wretch ... take care never to rouse that," and holding out his hand, he said good-bye.
I did not take his hand, but stared at his beautiful fingers.
"I don't mean to hurt your feelings," I said almost crying, "but how can you get to Vienna without a single penny?"
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.