Old Matthew was raking the gravel paths in the garden when Cornellistepped out of the house and slowly approached. She held a book in herhand and now sat down on the bench under the hazel bush. Laying thebook on her lap, she watched Matthew while he cleaned up the paths.Looking up he said: "Come with me, Cornelli, and let us go over to thestable together, for you have not been there for a long time. Youshould see how the little kid is growing."
Cornelli merely shook her head and gave no answer. Matthew looked overat the child a few more times, but said no more.
Esther, carrying a large basket, now arrived. As she was going to thevegetable garden she called over to the child: "You must have aspecially nice book to be sitting there so quietly, Cornelli."
Cornelli shook her head.
"No?" laughed Esther. "All right, then, come with me and I'll show youhow many yellow plums there are going to be this year; the whole treeis full and they are already beginning to ripen."
"I don't care," said Cornelli.
"No?" laughed Esther. "All right, then, plums," Esther exclaimed. "Andour large juicy pears are beginning to get ripe, too. Don't you wantto come and see how long it will be before they are ripe?"
"No," was the reply.
Esther now went her ways. A short time after that Matthew joined her."What is the matter with the child, Esther," he asked. "She is sochanged! One can hardly recognize any more our gay and friendlyCornelli. And why does she have her hair hanging into her face thatway? One absolutely does not know her any more."
"That is just what I say," Esther replied. "I really can't understandit. One hardly ever sees the child, and if one does meet her somewhere,she scarcely says a word. She never sings or laughs the way she usedto, and she always wears such a terribly unhappy expression that itfairly makes one's heart ache. How happy the child used to be!
"They say that she needs to be educated, and it may be so; but sinceshe is getting an education she is absolutely changed, and not for thebetter. However, things may go well again when her education isfinished."
"She misses her mother," said Matthew. "It is awfully hard on a littleone to grow up without a mother, for she needs her at every step. Itis so easy when you have a mother to whom you can tell your joys andtroubles."
"One might think that you still run to your mother whenever anyonedoes you harm, Matthew," said Esther, a little mockingly.
"I should love to," Matthew assured her. "I know what my mother meantto me and so I am always sorry for every child that has none. One cansee how it is with our master's child; nothing is of any good to heras long as she has no mother."
Matthew went away, looking once more with pity at Cornelli, who wassitting quite motionless on the bench. The book by now was lying onthe ground.
Soon afterwards Mr. Maelinger entered the garden and neared the house,but Cornelli intercepted him.
"I could not come at 9 o'clock to-day," he said, "but I think one houris better than none, so am here now, at 11 o'clock. I hope you havespent a pleasant, useful morning."
"No, I haven't," said Cornelli drily.
"But you have a fine book in your hand. It is sure to have somethingnice in it. What is it all about?"
"I do not know," replied Cornelli.
"Let us go to our work now. Your reading does not seem to have impressedyou much, so let us hope for a better result from our lesson."
The teacher entered the house with his pupil, and they were just gettingsettled in their accustomed places when he said: "It seems to me,Cornelli, that your hair hangs a little too much over your face. Itmust be very uncomfortable. Could not this be changed?"
"No, I can never change that, never, never," Cornelli said passionately,tightly pressing down the hair on her forehead. "Oh, really! But thisis no affair of mine," said the teacher calmly. "Only it seems to mea rather disfiguring manner of wearing the hair. You would feel muchmore comfortable without these weeping-willow-like hangings in frontof your eyes."
Cornelli was still pressing both her hands against her forehead, asif the teacher might try by force to straighten up her hair. But henow began the lesson quite peacefully.
When the ladies were leaving the room after lunch, the cousin said tothe child: "You are not going to run off again immediately, Cornelli.You must begin a proper and orderly existence. When your work is doneyou can read one of your many lovely books. You have enough time afterour coffee hour to take walks and to pay visits."
As usual the work was soon finished. Afterwards Cornelli sat down onthe garden bench. Just as before, she put the book in her lap, and itsoon fell to the ground. Cornelli peeped about her, at the trees andat the ground, but she did not really seem to see them.
At coffee time Cornelli punctually appeared at table and quickly gulpeddown everything that was poured out for her, as if it were a medicinethat simply had to be swallowed. Afterwards she sat there frowning,for she had to remain at her seat till the ladies got up; she hadlearned this custom from her cousin.
"Don't always frown and make such horns! One can see them quite plainlyeven through your curtains," said Miss Dorner. "It won't be long beforeyou can go away."
At last the ladies got up to go into the garden. Cornelli sneaked outbehind them, turned unseen around the corner of the house, and walkedacross the meadow to the path.
"To sit here under the hazel bush and read a fine book is really apleasure not many children have," said Miss Dorner, sitting down onthe bench. "For this alone you should be grateful, instead of frowningand sulking all day, Cornelli--yes! But where has she gone again?" thelady interrupted herself, glancing around.
"She disappeared as soon as we came out," her friend answered. "Isn'tCornelli really peculiar? She never says a friendly word and nevergives a single sign of childish love. She always runs away as soon asshe possibly can."
"I am so sorry for her father, who must long for a pleasant familylife," Miss Dorner continued. "He will never have this by the side ofhis only daughter, who seems to become more unfriendly and stubbornevery day. Others in the house have noticed it, too, so Mina tells me.Oh, what a life it will be here in two or three years. My poor cousinwith his beautiful estate! What good is that to him?"
"Many things can happen in two years that can't be foretold, Kitty,and that can change a household entirely," replied the other lady."For the benefit of your cousin let us hope that this may come true."
Cornelli was not leaping or running, but was quietly creeping alongthe edge of the path. She was staring at the ground, without oncelooking up at the merry birds which were whistling above her. Not oncedid she glance to right or left in the meadows, though they were fullof red daisies and blue forget-me-nots which Cornelli ordinarily lovedto pick.
Martha saw the approaching child. She came out with a worried face andfull of sympathy asked: "What is wrong with you, Cornelli? Can younever again be merry?"
"No, not any more," replied Cornelli, entering Martha's little chamberand sitting down on the stool which her old friend had put for her inthe usual place. Cornelli's words did not come rapidly and angrily anymore, as they had done before. With a deep sigh she added: "I onlywish I had never learned to read."
"What! But child, what an idea," exclaimed Martha, "what a foolishwish! You should realize what it means to want to find out somethingand not be able to. One has to begin over and over again, and nothinghelps one. That is what happened to me to-day. If you don't help meI won't ever understand it. I often wish I could read and write asfast as our Cornelli does. It is a great gift to be able to read andwrite easily, and everybody who can't do it knows that well. Don't youlike the pretty books your father has given you?"
"No, I don't. They are pretty, but awfully tiresome, Martha," Cornelliassured her. "There are all kinds of stories and descriptions in themof famous people and discoveries. Father said that he used to lovethem when he was young, but he was probably different from me. Now Ican't run to the stable any more, nor into the woods as I feel likedoing; now I have to sit around all the ti
me and read a book. Oh, Iwish nobody had written any books, then nobody would have to readthem."
"But Cornelli, I do not think that this would suit everybody," Marthasaid. "Please help me to read a letter I got to-day, and then you willsee what an advantage it is to be able to read. I need your help, forI do not understand what is wanted of me."
Cornelli, taking up the letter, was quite willing to help her dear oldfriend.
"Who wrote it?" asked the child.
"That is just the thing I cannot read," Martha answered. "I only knowthat it comes from town, but I cannot guess who could possibly writeto me from there."
Cornelli began to read the letter aloud. It was an inquiry as to whetherthe spare room had yet been taken, and if Mrs. Wolf could take careof a boy of twelve years for a few weeks. He did not need special care,as he was not exactly ill; but the boy undoubtedly was not very strong.Good air and fresh milk were the chief things he needed. If no refusalcame, the boy would arrive in the middle of July. It was signed: NikaHalm, rector's widow.
"Oh, how easily you read. It seems to go all of itself," said Marthaadmiringly, when Cornelli had finished. "I never could have made itout so well. Just think how proud I can be that a rector's wife willbring her son to me. Oh, I'll take the best care of him, and I mustask Matthew to let him have some milk from the cows every morning andevening. Isn't it too bad it is not a girl; then you would have aplaymate. But you will entertain each other just the same. Are you nota little bit glad that he is coming?"
"No, not a bit," Cornelli returned curtly. "I know quite well that hewon't have anything to do with me, and I know why, too. I do not carewhether it is a boy or a girl. I don't want him."
"But Cornelli, you never used to be that way. You used to be so friendlyand bright with everybody. What has happened to you?" asked Martha,quite grieved. "You do not look about you with bright eyes and yourhair hangs too low on your face. Can't I push it back a little?"
Martha, fetching a comb, was going to touch Cornelli's hair, whenCornelli hindered her by crying out: "No, Martha, leave it! It has tostay that way all my life."
"Oh, no, I won't believe that. Why should your face be half coveredup? One can hardly recognize you," Martha said regretfully. "What dothe ladies say about it?"
"Miss Dorner says that I am the most obstinate being in the wholeworld, and that no one can ever set me right," was Cornelli's truthfulinformation. Then she added: "She says that no child on earth looksas ugly as I do and that nobody in the world will ever like me. I knowthat it is true, and I only wish nobody were coming to you; then Icould always be alone with you."
"Cornelli, I am quite sure that you would do right in obeying theladies," said Martha. "If you did what they say, they would love youas well as everybody else does."
"No, no, Martha, you don't know how it is," Cornelli said, quitefrightened. "I'll do everything they say, but I can never push my hairaway, for then it would be worse still and everybody could see it."
Martha shook her head.
"I do not know what you mean, Cornelli. Please come to me just as oftenas you can. I shall always love you more than anybody who might evercome here. If you did not come, it would hurt me dreadfully. Then Iwould rather not have the rector's son here, glad as I am now that heis coming."
"All right, Martha, then I shall come," Cornelli promised. "We caneasily be alone together in the kitchen, for I want to see you alone.I shall not come on Monday, for that is the day they arrive. On Tuesday,though, I'll come. Then we'll go together to the kitchen."
Martha promised this and Cornelli went home in the same way as she hadcome. Not once did she run to the meadow to pick forget-me-nots orother flowers that were sparkling there.
When Monday came, she was wondering if a carriage would arrive witha proud city boy and a lady with a high feather hat, both of whom wouldlook down on her with disdain. Cornelli settled down beside the gardenfence, for from there she could conveniently survey the road. But shesaw no carriage, though she watched through both the morning and theafternoon. She really was very glad, for she was quite sure that nobodyhad arrived. Next day when the time came for her to be free, she walkedover to Martha's little house.
"Oh, I am so glad that nobody has come. Now I can be alone with youand don't have to go to the kitchen--"
Cornelli had said these words on entering, but she suddenly stopped.A boy she had never seen sat at the table in the room and Martha wasjust clearing away the supper things. So he had come after all and hadeven heard what she had said. Oh, it was dreadful! But the boy waslaughing.
Cornelli wanted to withdraw quickly, but the boy called out: "Pleasecome in and let us get acquainted. Mrs. Martha has already told meabout you. Just come in," he continued, when he saw that Cornelli stillhesitated. "If you want to be alone with Mrs. Wolf I can easily go tomy own room."
Cornelli felt that it was very nice of the boy not to resent her wordsand to be willing to give place to her. She therefore entered. Marthahad already put a chair in readiness for her and greeted her heartily.
"I expected you, Cornelli," she said. "Just sit down here a littlewith our guest. His name is Dino Halm and he already knows your name.I am sure you will have a good time together. I'll go up in the meantimeand if you need me you can find me in the room upstairs."
Martha, thinking that the children could get acquainted better if theywere left alone, had planned to unpack her new arrival's things whilethey were together. She put his belongings neatly away in the wardrobeand the drawers in order to make him feel at home in his tidy littlechamber.
"Why did you think that we did not come?" asked Dino as soon as Marthahad left the room and Cornelli was sitting beside him silently.
"Because I did not see the carriage," she replied.
"The carriage? Well, I can believe you," said Dino. "We walked morethan an hour, in fact, nearly two, before we got here from the station.Do you just hop into a carriage when you go to the station?"
"Yes, I do; I always go there with Papa," replied Cornelli.
"But where do the horses always come from?" Dino wanted to know.
"From our stable," was the answer.
"Have you your own carriage and two horses of your own, just to beable to drive about?" Dino questioned, full of astonishment.
"Yes, we have the two brown ones and six others to carry away the ironfrom the foundry."
"Good gracious, eight horses!" Dino exclaimed. "You are lucky to beable to sit in a carriage with your father and drive around!"
"Can't you do that?" asked Cornelli.
"Never in my life," Dino replied in a voice full of conviction. "Firstof all, I do not have a father. Besides that, we do not own a stableand horses. How lucky you are! Have you anything else in the stable?"
"Oh yes, lots more. Six cows and a large gray stable cat," Cornelliinformed him. "Then there is an old nanny goat and a young snow whitekid, about whose neck I tied a red ribbon. You are going to drink milkfrom our cow, did you know that?"
"Oh, I shall love to do that!" Dino exclaimed. "Do you think I'll beallowed to go to the stable and look at the horses?"
"Certainly you will; Matthew will love to show them to you, and Marthawill willingly let you go. If I only could go with you!" And Cornelliuttered a deep sigh.
"Well, I should think you certainly could do that, when the stablebelongs to you. Who would hinder you, I'd like to know?" Dino said."Do you know what we'll do? We'll hitch the little kid to a cart. Won'tthat be lovely? It can pull you and I shall be the coachman. I oncesaw such a little carriage on a promenade in town."
Cornelli had already had that thought herself, but she knew now thatshe could never again go to the stable. It was suddenly clear to herthat she could not run about as before and that she could not be happyany more. The chief reason for it all was clear to her, the reasonthat prevented her from being carefree and bright as in the old times.She did not answer, but gave forth a profound sigh, profounder thanthe one she had uttered before.
"Why
do you sigh, as if you had to carry a mountain about with you--aload that keeps you from going forward? Why do you do it?" asked Dino.
"I can't tell anyone. You couldn't, either, if you had the trouble Ihave," replied the little girl.
"Oh, yes, I could. There is nothing in the world I couldn't tell,"Dino asserted. "If you can't confide in other people, you can alwaystell your mother, for she can always smooth everything out for you.Just go to her and tell her about it. That will relieve you andeverything will come right."
"Yes, and now I can say what you said to me before. You are lucky andmuch luckier than I am," said Cornelli with a trembling voice. "I nevercan go to my mother because I have none. Now you see how well off Iam! I am sure you would never exchange with me, would you?"
Dino looked quite frightened.
"I did not know that you had no mother," he said, full of pity. In hismind he saw his own mother, the way she looked at him, so full of lovethat it always lightened his heart whenever anything troubled him. Andpoor Cornelli had to miss all that!
Even the stable with the horses, the large garden with all the fruit,about which Martha had told him so much, appeared to him now in adifferent light.
Full of decision he said: "No indeed, I would not change with you."
But a great pity for the motherless child welled up in Dino's heartand he longed to be her protector. He could understand now why Cornellilooked so strange; he had even noticed it as soon as he had seen her.There was no mother to fix everything the way it should be.
"We'll try to be friends, Cornelli! But you must push your hair backfrom your forehead first of all; one can hardly see your eyes. Nobodywears hair like that. I don't see how such long hair can stay therewithout blowing off. What on earth did you paste it on with?"
"With glue," replied Cornelli.
"How nasty! Come, I'll cut it all off, and then your eyes and yourforehead will be clear. You can hardly see that way."
Dino had seized the scissors that were lying beside Martha's workbasket, but Cornelli, struggling against him with both hands, fairlyscreamed: "Let it be. It has to be that way. Put the scissors away!"
"I won't hurt you. But don't scream so loud!" said Dino quietly, puttingdown the scissors again. "I only wanted to do you a favor. If my twosisters, Agnes and Nika, could see you, they would laugh at you; theywould not like the way you pasted on those locks."
"I know that. But they do not need to see me at all," said Cornellicrossly. "Nobody needs to see me. I know that nobody likes me, but Idon't care."
With these words Cornelli ran away. Dino was terribly astonished andstood looking at the door through which Cornelli had disappeared withouteven a word of farewell.
When Martha again entered the little room and was looking at Cornelli'sempty chair, Dino said: "What a queer child she is. I never thoughtshe would be so unfriendly."
He related how they had passed the time together and how Cornelli hadsuddenly run off without even saying good-bye. He had not wanted tooffend her.
Martha shook her head and said: "Cornelli never was that way before.I am so worried about her, for she is absolutely changed. You must notthink that she is queer and runs away like that and suddenly getscross. She never was that way at all; this is something new. If I onlycould hear her sing and laugh again as of old. I hoped that her oldgaiety would come back with such a good playfellow as you are. Maybeit will; after all, this is only the first day of your acquaintance.
"I am sure Cornelli will not come back to me," said Dino, still quitepuzzled. "She ran away so full of anger."
When Cornelli had exclaimed, "I don't care," it probably was not true.On reaching home she quietly stole to her room. Sitting down on astool, she put her head in both hands and began to cry bitterly.
CHAPTER VI
A FRIEND IS FOUND