While I was toiling hard all day below, I used to think, 'Because of my pains, my son will rejoice.'" He took the corner of his dressing-gown to wipe his eyes, and tried to recover his composure.

And so he sat, a broken-down man, face to face with his son.
Bernhard looked silently at his father's bent head.

At last he reached out his hand.

"My father!" he gently said.
Ehrenthal instantly seized the proffered hand between his, and holding it fast for fear it should be again withdrawn, he came nearer, kissed and stroked it.

"Now thou art my own kind son once more," said he, with emotion; "now thou wilt not speak such wicked words again, or quarrel with me about this baron." Bernhard snatched his hand away.
"I will not press him; I will have patience about the interest," said Ehrenthal, beseechingly, trying to recover his son's hand.
"Ah! it is useless to speak to him!" cried Bernhard, in deepest distress; "he does not even understand my words." "I will understand every thing," gasped out Ehrenthal, "if you will only give me back your hand." "Will you relinquish your plan about the estate ?" asked Bernhard.
"Speak not of the estate," besought the old man.
"In vain!" murmured Bernhard, turning away and hiding his face in his hands.
Ehrenthal sat by him annihilated and sighing deeply.