“But never, never?” asked Sigmund, in a voice of terror and pain mingled.
“When thou art a man that will depend upon thyself,” said Eugen. “Thou wilt have to choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Whether thou wilt see me again.”
“When I am a man may I choose?” he asked, raising his head with sudden animation.
“Yes; I shall see to that.”
“Oh, very well. I have chosen now,” said Sigmund, and the thought gave him visible joy and relief.
Eugen kissed him passionately. Blessed ignorance of the hardening influences of the coming years! Blessed tenderness of heart and singleness of affection which could see no possibility that circumstances might make the acquaintance of a now loved and adored superior being appear undesirable! And blessed sanguineness of five years old, which could bridge the gulf between then and manhood, and cry, Auf wiedersehen!
During the next few days more letters were exchanged. Eugen received one which he answered. Part of the answer he showed to me, and it ran thus: