To-day my inheritance has been officially forwarded to me. It consists
of three groschen and a letter from my Aunt Lies, which is as follows:
"DEAR ANDREAS:
"I am old, sick, and helpless. Thou art in the mountains, God only
knows where. During my illness I have been thinking over everything. I
have undoubtedly done thee a wrong and I beg thy pardon. This money
weighs upon my mind more than all else; it is thy christening-money,
which thou wouldst have sent to thy father in heaven. I took it from
thee, but now I beg thee to take it back and to forgive me; for I wish
to die in peace. God bless thee, and I must say one more word: if thou
art in the mountains, then do not come away from there. All is vanity.
In prosperous days my friends remained true to me; now they leave me to
die in poverty.
"Many thousand kisses for thee, my dear, my only kinsman. When God
takes me to Himself in heaven, I will greet thy parents for thee.
"Until death
"Thy loving aunt
"ELISE."