[_Enters with_ Paul, _from R_.] Confound it! Everything seems to go wrong this morning!
Morning, my child. Such carelessness! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. If this thing had happened earlier in the season, out on the meadows--but at this time of the year--!!! Oh! Confound it all, anyway!!!!! It is inexcusable!!!
The black cow has been overfed. But of course, when Marie is not about to look after everything, things go to rack and ruin. Well, man, what excuse are you going to make?
Now that's the most sensible thing you have said this morning. Here, take a cigar and get to work; but mind! send for the veterinary surgeon at once. Have you had breakfast?
[_Impatiently_.] It's all right! it's all right!
[_Remains--hesitatingly_.] G--Good-morning!!
H'm! Gertrude, darling, will you please see if it is still threatening rain?
[_Confidentially_.] The old hag has turned up again.
[_Alarmed_.] Wha---- The devil you say! H'm! Who--who has seen her?
She was seen begging in the village--and last night, one of my men observed her creeping stealthily around the sheds yonder.
[_Scratching his head_.] Yes, yes! I had almost forgotten. She has served her last sentence--fully five years!--we have been free from her annoying presence and now, she has returned. Well, what does she want?
She has heard her daughter is about to be married, she says.
[_Laughs_.] _Her_ daughter? ha, ha! I see! no doubt she has learned of Gertrude's betrothal. Well? and----
And so she has come to get her share of the wedding-cake--so she says; but she dare not venture here.
Well, I should advise her to keep a respectful distance. Take good care, Mr. Paul, that she approaches no one of this house. Do you hear? No one. I will see the constable myself; and perhaps we'll soon get rid of her again. Good-morning.
[_Enters_.] Shall I pour your coffee, papa?
What? My little one looking after the breakfast, eh? Can you do all that?
Oh, of course--not as well as she--you must have patience with me, papa!
Why certainly, my pet! [_Embraces her_.] And now, let me see--how many days are you left to me?
Now, you rascal! must you leave me? must you go and marry, eh? must you?
But papa, dear, it is all your own arrangement!
Of course, of course! what is a poor old man to do? Have you seen George this morning? [Gertrude _shakes her head_.] Such sloth! He does nothing but sleep, sleep, sleep.