Who saw him thus found his taste for laughing with him soon gone.
And after that again he was so leaden-hearted that grandmother felt grave concern about him, lest, perhaps, he should attempt his own life. Meek and gentle sometimes like a child, and sometimes again he dealt out his words as though he would speak daggers.
“You know excellently how to take care of children,” he said to grandfather, “not only of your own but even of Kubista’s—for you have taken care of Betuska better than he himself did. No one could have provided for her better. Faith ’tis quite a peculiar talent when a man can so prettily blast another’s happiness.”
Grandfather was scared at these words. There lay in them an enormous weight of accusation, and yet they were pronounced with as much coldness as if he had said, “My pipe has gone out.”
Grandfather, however, did not dare to evade the charge implied, but began to consider how he might divert Uncle John to other pursuits. He sought counsel of grandmother, but with her he did not succeed very well, for she told him curtly, that he had already shown how clever he was at managing, so then let him manage again according to his own sweet will.
Grandfather began to feel himself veritably isolated. At home all avoided him, and indeed he avoided others more than they avoided him. He then began to drive out to his sons and married daughters, but there also he did not gain much help. None of them was willing to take upon himself the responsibility of advising when matters might turn out badly—for they knew grandfather well.
