"But now—"
"Now, I have no time!" laughed Cara. "No, no, father, two minutes more, a minute more—I will ask about something else."
"You will ask more!" exclaimed he, with such a laugh as he had hardly ever given.
"Yes, yes—something even more important than the last. I am troubled about it—it pains me so—"
She changed from foot to foot, and embraced her father with all her strength, as if fearing that he might run away.
"Did father mean really to say that one should not uphold the poor, the hungry, the sorrowful, the sad, nor comfort them; that it is only necessary to leave them so that they may die as soon as possible? When father said that I felt sick in some way. Mamma and Ira this long time support two old men, so gray and nice, whom Miss Mary and I visit often. Do mamma and Ira do badly? Should we let them die as soon as possible from hunger? Brrr! it is terrible! Does father think so really, or did he only say what he did to get rid of those gentlemen the more quickly? Father you are good, the best, a dear, golden father. Do you really believe what you said, or was it to get rid of those men? I beg you to answer me, I beg you!"
This time her eyes were fixed on his face, with a gleam which was almost feverish, and again he stood in silence, filled with astonishment. Why could his mouth not open to tell that girl his profoundest conviction?
With all the wrinkles between his brows, he said, without a smile:
"I said that to get rid of them; I wished to be rid of those gentlemen as quickly as possible." The soles of Cara's feet struck the floor time after time with delight.
"Yes, yes! I was sure of that! My best, dearest father—"