The twins were eight years old,
and perfectly inseparable, never more so than in planning and carrying out
various delightful plans, of whose mischievousness they were really only
half conscious.
"And you, Rolf, how is it with you?" said the father, turning to a
twelve-year old lad with a high forehead, and a strong, firm neck. "Plenty
of Latin learned? More new puzzles ready?"
"I have been doing both, father," said the boy. "But the children will not
guess my riddles, and my mother has not time to try."
"That is too bad," said his father, kindly and turning to the eldest
daughter, a girl of nearly thirteen, he drew her to his side and said
tenderly,
"And you Paula, are you still alone in your garden walks? have you no dear
friend with you yet?"
"No, of course not, father, but it is beautiful to have you at home
again," she answered as she embraced him.
"And I hope my 'big Jule,' is using his vacation in some sensible way?"
"I combine the agreeable with the useful," said Julius gaily, returning
his father's embrace.
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