When I recovered, I tried to excuse myself on the
ground that the champagne had been too much for me.
Von Brincken looked long and searchingly at me, and said in a sad and
tired voice, which I shall never forget:
"Yes, you are right.... Evidently you cannot stand my champagne."
The following morning two letters were brought from his house. One was
for my father, in which Von Brincken said he felt obliged to break off
the engagement. He was suffering from a heart trouble, and a recent
medical examination had proved to him that he would be guilty of an
unpardonable wrong in marrying a young girl.
To me he wrote:
"You will understand why I give a fictitious reason to your father and
to the world in general. I should be committing a moral murder were I to
marry you under the circumstances. My love for you, great as it is, is
not great enough to conquer the instinctive repugnance of your youth."
Once again he sent me abroad at his own expense. This time, at my own
wish, I went to Paris, where I met a young artist who fell in love with
me.
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