Fanny cast down her eyes, and twisting a ribbon round her finger, "I don't want to go to Aunt Teresa," she faltered timidly.
A disjointed embroidering frame was lying on the table.
Fanny stole a glance at her mother and sisters, and meeting with looks of encouragement, repeated, this time in a bold, determined voice-- "I don't want to go to Aunt Teresa!" "What?
You don't want to go, eh ?" "I want to stay here with my mother and sisters." "With your mother and sisters, eh?
and become what they are, I suppose ?" and seizing the girl with one hand, he snatched up with the other one of the sticks of the embroidering frame, and, before Fanny had time to be frightened, he thrashed her in a way that made his own heart bleed for her.
The sisters tried to interfere, and got their share also, for papa Meyer broke all the remaining sticks of the frame over their shoulders, so that when it came to his wife's turn, he had to pummel her with his fists till she collapsed in a corner.
A few years sooner a moderate dose of this discipline might have been of use, now it only caused physical pain.

And all the time Mr.Meyer never said a word; he simply gratified his rage, like a wild beast that has escaped from its cage.
After that he seized Fanny by the hand, and without taking leave of any one, dragged her along with him to Aunt Teresa's.

The child wept all the way.
The chastised damsels wished, in their wrath, that their departing father might never return again.

And their wish was gratified, for Mr.
Meyer never did return home again.

From henceforth he vanished from Pressburg.