“I, too, purpose to get a great deal out of life now that my fate is in my own hands.  By the summer we shall even be able to travel a little.  Third-class, yet that will be far more amusing than stuffed into one of those plush carriages with the windows closed and forbidden to speak with any one in the corridor.  And forced to carry all the hand-luggage off the train (when your father had an economical spasm and would not take a footman) while he stalked out first as if we did not exist.  I shall never marry again—­Gott in Himmel, no!—­but I shall gather about me all the interesting men I never have been able to have ten minutes’ conversation with alone; and, so far as is humanly possible, do exactly as I please.  My ego has been starved.  I shall always be your best friend—­but think for yourselves.”

Gisela had no gift that she was aware of, but she was intellectual and had longed to finish her education at one of the great universities.  As she was not strong, however, she was content to spend a year in the mountains; and then, robust, and on a meager income, she went to Munich to attend the lectures on art and literature and to perfect herself in French and English.  She took a small room in an old tower near the Frauenkirche and lived the students’ life, probably the freest of any city in the world.  She dropped her title and name lest she be barred from that socialistic community as well as discovered by horrified relatives, and called herself Gisela Doering.  After she had taken her degree she passed a month in Berlin with her mother, who already had established a salon, but she was determined to support herself and see the world at the same time.  Herr Doktor Meyers found her a position as governess with a wealthy American patient, and, under her assumed name, she sailed immediately for New York.

The Bolands had a house in upper Fifth Avenue and others at Newport, Aiken and Bar Harbor; and when not occupying these stations were in Europe or southern California.  The two little girls passed the summer at Bar Harbor with their governess.

It took Gisela some time to accustom herself to the position of upper servant in that household of many servants, but she possessed humor and she had had governesses herself.  Her salary was large, she had one entire day in the week to herself, except at Bar Harbor, and during her last summer in the United States Mrs. Boland had a violent attack of “America first” and took her children and their admirable governess not only to California but to the Yellowstone Park, the Grand Canon and Canada.  They traveled in a private car, and Gisela, who could enjoy the comfortless quarters of a student flat in Munich with all that life meant in the free and beautiful city by the Isar, could also revel in luxury; and this wonderful summer, following as it did the bitter climax of her first serious love affair, seemed to her all the consolation that a mere woman could ask.  At all events she felt for it an intense and lasting gratitude.