ch gave him the powder himself," declared
Mimi.

"Then you can see for yourself what use he is," continued Grandmamma.
"And where IS he--this precious 'Uncle'? How is one to get hold of him?
Send him here."

"He has gone an errand for me," said Papa.

"That is not at all right," rejoined Grandmamma. "He ought ALWAYS to be
here. True, the children are yours, not mine, and I have nothing to do
with them, seeing that you are so much cleverer than I am; yet all the
same I think it is time we had a regular tutor for them, and not this
'Uncle' of a German--a stupid fellow who knows only how to teach them
rude manners and Tyrolean songs! Is it necessary, I ask you, that they
should learn Tyrolean songs? However, there is no one for me to consult
about it, and you must do just as you like."

The word "NOW" meant "NOW THAT THEY HAVE NO MOTHER," and suddenly
awakened sad recollections in Grandmamma's heart. She threw a glance at
the snuff-box bearing Mamma's portrait and sighed.

"I thought of all this long ago," said Papa eagerly, "as well as taking
your advice on the subject. How would you like St. Jerome to superintend
their lessons?"

"Oh, I think he would do excellently, my friend," said Grandmamma in a
mollified tone, "He is at least a tutor comme il faut, and knows how to
instruct des enfants de bonne maison. He is not a mere 'Uncle' who is
good only for taking them out walking."

"Very well; I will talk to him to-morrow," said Papa. And, sure enough,
two days later saw Karl Ivanitch forced to retire in favour of the young
Frenchman referred to.

VIII. KARL IVANITCH'S HISTORY

THE evening before the day when Karl was to leave us for ever, he was
standing (clad, as usual, in his wadded dressing-gown and red cap)
near the bed in his room, and bending down over a trunk as he carefully
packed his belongings.

His behaviour towards us had been very cool of late, and he had seemed
to shrink from all contact with us. Consequently, when I entered his
room on the present occasion, he only glanced at me for a second and
then went on with his occupation. Even though I proceeded to jump on
to his bed (a thing hitherto always forbidden me to do), he said not
a word; and the idea that he would soon be scolding or forgiving us no
longer--no longer having anything to do with us--reminded me vividly of
the impending separation. I felt grieved to think that he had ceased to
love us and wanted to show him my grief.

"Wil