n and his wife were kept pointedly apart from the family
life, they had to put up with these allusions in silence. Karl,
needing protection, constantly shadowed the Frenchman, improving every
opportunity to overwhelm him with his eulogies. He never could thank him
enough for all that he had done for him. He was his only champion. He
longed for a chance to prove his gratitude, to die for him if necessary.
His wife admired him with enthusiasm as "the most gifted knight in the
world." And Desnoyers received their devotion in gratified silence,
accepting the German as an excellent comrade. As he controlled
absolutely the family fortune, he aided Karl very generously without
arousing the resentment of the old man. He also took the initiative in
bringing about the realization of Karl's pet ambition--a visit to the
Fatherland. So many years in America! . . . For the very reason that
Desnoyers himself had no desire to return to Europe, he wished to
facilitate Karl's trip, and gave him the means to make the journey with
his entire family. The father-in-law had no curiosity as to who paid the
expenses. "Let them go!" he said gleefully, "and may they never return!"
Their absence was not a very long one, for they spent their year's
allowance in three months. Karl, who had apprised his parents of the
great fortune which his marriage had brought him, wished to make an
impression as a millionaire, in full enjoyment of his riches. Elena
returned radiant, speaking with pride of her relatives--of the baron,
Colonel of Hussars, of the Captain of the Guard, of the Councillor
at Court--asserting that all countries were most insignificant when
compared with her husband's. She even affected a certain condescension
toward Desnoyers, praising him as "a very worthy man, but without
ancient lineage or distinguished family--and French, besides."
Karl, on the other hand, showed the same devotion as before, keeping
himself submissively in the background when with his brother-in-law
who had the keys of the cash box and was his only defense against the
browbeating old Patron. . . . He had left his two older sons in a school
in Germany. Years afterwards they reached an equal footing with the
other grandchildren of the Spaniard who always begrudged them their
existence, "perfect frights, with carroty hair, and eyes like a shark."
Suddenly the old man became very lonely, for they had also carried off
his second "Peoncito." The good Chicha could not t
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