She crushed a tear that had begun to trickle down her cheek and went over to the room where her father had just entered.
"How are you, child?
Have you come at last ?" the father called gaily to her.

"But how strange you look, Cornelli!" he went on with a changed voice.

"What is it ?" Cornelli had silently given him her hand and was shyly looking down.
"What has happened to you?
How odd you look! I hardly know you any more! Push away all that gypsy-like hair from your face! Why don't you look at me pleasantly?
Why do you keep looking away?
For months I have been looking forward to this home-coming to my little daughter, who, I had hoped, would have gained much.

So this is the way I am to find you, Cornelli." Full of sorrow and anger, the father was gazing at the little girl.
She had turned away and had not said a word.

Her face, half hidden by the horrible hair strands, seemed to be covered by a gray cloud which threatened to break out in a violent rain.
"We shall talk it all over later, Frederick," said the cousin.