"Leaving you behind."
"Somebody once said that the wisest thing a son could do was to get rid of his father as soon as possible—"
"Then Don Giovanni is a wise man," returned Donna Tullia.
"Perhaps. However, he asked me to accompany him."
"You refused?"
"Of course. Such expeditions are good enough for boys. I dislike Florence, I am not especially fond of Paris, and I detest the North Pole. I suppose you have seen from the papers that he is going in that direction? It is like him, he hankers after originality, I suppose. Being born in the south, he naturally goes to the extreme north."
"He will write you very interesting letters, I should think," remarked
Donna Tullia. "Is he a good correspondent?"
"Remarkably, for he never gives one any trouble. He sends his address from time to time, and draws frequently on his banker. His letters are not so full of interest as might be thought, as they rarely extend over five lines; but on the other hand it does not take long to read them, which is a blessing."
"You seem to be an affectionate parent," said Donna Tullia, with a laugh.
"If you measure affection by the cost of postage-stamps, you have a right to be sarcastic. If you measure it in any other way, you are wrong. I could not help loving any one so like myself as my son. It would show a detestable lack of appreciation of my own gifts."