His anxiety concerning his daughters increased to an oppressive degree, and aggravated the symptoms of his disease.

With his habitual desire to screen them from everything unpleasant, he unwisely concealed from them both his illness and his pecuniary difficulties.

He knew he could no longer be a rich man; but he still had hope of saving enough of his fortune to live in a moderate way in some cheap district of France.
But on the day when he bade his daughters good morning so cheerfully, he received a letter informing him of another extensive failure, which involved him deeply.

He was alone in his counting-room when he read it; and there Franz Blumenthal found him dead, with the letter in his hand.

His sudden exit of course aroused the vigilance of creditors, and their examination into the state of his affairs proved anything but satisfactory.
The sisters, unconscious of all this, were undisturbed by any anxiety concerning future support.