“What is the matter with you, father?” the young lady asked, fearing that something unusual had happened, and that he was ill, for his face was flaming.
“Do you love me?” he asked, instead of answering her question.
The young Countess sprang up, and clasping her arms closely around his neck heartily kissed him. The daughter did not suspect that she was giving her father the last kiss; the father did not know that he was enjoying with his daughter the last moments of mutual love.
“If you really love your father you surely will do something to please him, though you have not overjoyed him in that respect lately.”
She looked at him penitently; well she knew that her father was often dissatisfied with her.
“I am very sorry that I do not please you as I used to,” she sadly replied. “Your dissatisfaction often grieves me. But tell me how to avoid thoughts that rise in my mind involuntarily; what to do that their echo may never
