CHAPTER II
DIVERS WORRIES
Before the mother went off to church on Sunday morning she always glancedinto the living-room to see if the children were quietly settled at theirdifferent occupations and to hope that everything would remain in orderduring her absence. When she looked in to-day everything was peaceful.Bruno and Mea were both sitting in a corner lost in a book, Kurt hadspread out his drawings on a table before him, and Lippo and Maezli werebuilding on their small table a beautiful town with churches, towers andlarge palaces. The mother was thoroughly satisfied and went away. Forawhile everything was still. A bright ray of sunshine fell over Kurt'sdrawing and gaily played about on the paper. Kurt, looking up, saw howthe meadows were sparkling outside.
"The two rascally milk-spillers from yesterday ought to be locked up forthe whole day," Kurt suddenly exploded.
Mea apparently had been busy with the same thought for she assented veryeagerly. The two talked over the whole affair anew and had to give ventto their indignation about the scoundrels and their pity for poor Loneli.Maezli must have found the conversation entertaining, for glancing over tothe others, she let Lippo place the blocks whichever way he pleased,something that very seldom happened. Only when the children said no moreshe came back to her task.
"Goodness gracious!" Kurt exclaimed suddenly, starting up from hisdrawing; "you ought to have reminded me, Mea, that we have to bring someclothes to school for the poor people whose houses were burnt up. Youheard it, but mother does not even know about it yet."
"I forgot it, too," said Mea quietly, continuing to read.
"Mother knows about it long ago. I told her right away," Lippo declared."Teacher told us to be sure not to forget."
"Quite right, little school fox," Kurt replied, while he calmly kept ondrawing. As long as his mother knew about the matter he did not need tobother any more.
But the last words had interested Maezli very much. Throwing together thehouses, towers and churches she said to Lippo, "Come, Lippo, I knowsomething amusing we can do which will please mama, too."
Lippo wondered what that could be, but he first laid every block neatlyaway in the big box and did not let Maezli hurry him in the least.
"Don't do it that way," Maezli called out impatiently. "Throw them all inand put on the lid. Then it's all done."
"One must not do that, Maezli; no one must do it that way," Lippo saidseriously. "One ought to put in the first block and pack it before onetakes up the second."
"Then I won't wait for you," Maezli declared, rapidly whisking out by thedoor.
When Lippo had properly filled the box and set it in its right place, hequickly followed Maezli, wondering what her plan was. But he could findher nowhere, neither in the hall nor in the garden, and he got no answerto his loud, repeated calls. Finally a reply came which soundedstrangely muffled, as if from up above, so he went up and into herbedroom. There Maezli was sitting in the middle of a heap of clothes, herhead thrust far into a wardrobe. Apparently she was still pulling outmore things.
"You certainly are doing something wonderful," said Lippo, glancing withhis big eyes at the clothes on the floor.
"I am doing the right thing," said Maezli now in the most decided tone."Kurt has said that we must send the poor people some clothes, so we musttake them all out and lay together everything we don't need any more.Mama will be glad when she has no more to do about it and they can besent away to-morrow. Now get your things, too, and we'll put them all ina heap."
The matter, however, seemed still rather doubtful to Lippo. Standingthoughtfully before all the little skirts and jackets, he felt that thiswould not be quite after his mother's wish.
"When we want to do something with our clothes, we always have to askmother," he began again.
But Maezli did not answer and only pulled out a bunch of woolen stockingsand a heavy winter cloak, spreading everything on the floor.
"No, I won't do it," said Lippo again, after scrutinizing the unusualperformance.
"You don't want to do it because you are afraid it will be too muchwork," Maezli asserted with a face quite red with zeal. "I'll help youwhen I am done here."
"I won't do it anyhow," Lippo repeated resolutely; "I won't because weare not allowed to."
Maezli found no time to persuade him further, as she began to hunt for herheavy winter shoes, which were still in the wardrobe. But before she hadbrought them forth to the light, the door opened and the mother waslooking full of horror at the devastation.
"But children, what a horrible disorder!" she cried out, "and on Sundaymorning, too. What has made you do it? What is this wild dry-goods shopon the floor?"
"Now, you see, Maezli," said Lippo, not without showing great satisfactionat having so clearly proved that he had been in the right. Maezli triedwith all her might to prove to her mother that her intention had solelybeen to save her the work necessary to get the things together.
But the mother now explained decidedly to the little girl that she neverneeded to undertake such actions in the future as she could not possiblyjudge which clothes she still needed and which could be given away.Maezli was also told that such help on her part only resulted in doublework for her mother. "Besides I can see Maezli," the mother concluded,"that your great zeal seems to come from a wish to get rid of all thethings you don't like to wear yourself. All your woolen things, whichyou always say scratch your skin. So you do not mind if other childrenhave them, Maezli?"
"They might like them better than to be cold," was Maezli's opinion.
"Oh, mother, Mrs. Knippel is coming up the road toward our house; I amsure she is coming to see us," said Lippo, who had gone to the window.
"And I have not even taken my things off on account of your disorderhere," said the mother a little frightened. "Maezli, go and greet Mrs.Knippel and take her into the front room. Tell her that I have just comefrom church and that I shall come directly."
Maezli ran joyfully away; the errand seemed to please her. She receivedthe guest with excellent manners and led her into the front room to thesofa, for Maezli knew exactly the way her mother always did. Then shegave her mother's message.
"Very well, very well, And what do you want to do on this beautifulSunday?" the lady asked,
"Take a walk," Maezli answered rapidly. "Are they still locked up?" shethen casually asked.
"Who? Who? Whom do you mean?" and the lady looked somewhat disapprovinglyat the little girl.
"Edwin and Eugen," Maezli answered fearlessly.
"I should like to know where you get such ideas," the lady said withgrowing irritation. "I should like to know why the boys should be lockedup."
"Because they are so mean to Loneli all the time," Maezli declared.
The mother entered now. To her friendly greeting she only received avery cold reply.
"I only wonder, Mrs. Rector," the guest began immediately in anirritated manner, "what meanness that little poison-toad of a Loneli hasspread and invented about my boys. But I wonder still more that somepeople should believe such things."
Mrs. Maxa was very much astonished that her visitor should have alreadyheard what had taken place the night before, as she knew that her sonswould not speak of it of their own free will.
"As long as you know about it already, I shall tell you what happened,"she said. "You have apparently been misinformed. It had nothing to dowhatever with a meanness on Loneli's part. Maezli, please join the otherchildren and stay there till I come," the mother interrupted herself,turning to the little girl, whose eyes had been expectantly glued on thevisitor's face in the hope of hearing if the two boys were still lockedup.
Maezli walked away slowly, still hoping that she would hear the newsbefore she reached the door. But Maezli was doomed to be disappointed, asno word was spoken. Then Mrs. Maxa related the incident of the eveningbefore as it occurred.
"That is nothing at all," said the district attorney's wife in answer."Those are only childish jokes. All children hold out their feetsometimes to trip
each other. Such things should not be reckoned asfaults big enough to scold children for."
"I do not agree with you," said Mrs. Maxa. "Such kinds of jokes arevery much akin to roughness, and from small cruelties larger ones soonresult. Loneli has really suffered harm from this action, and I thinkthat joking ceases under such circumstances."
"As I said, it is not worth the trouble of losing so many words about. Ifeel decidedly that too much fuss is made about the grandmother and thechild. Apollonie does not seem to get it out of her head that her namewas Castle-Apollonie and she carries her head so high that the child willsoon learn it from her. But I have come to talk with you about somethingmuch more important."
The visitor now gave her listener some information that seemed to be farfrom pleasing to Mrs. Maxa, because the face of the latter became moreand more worried all the time. Mrs. Knippel and her husband had come tothe conclusion that the time had come when their sons should be sent tothe neighboring town in order to enter the lowest classes of the highschool. The Rector's teaching had been sufficient till now, but theyfelt that the boys had outgrown him and belonged to a more advancedschool. So they had decided to find a good boarding place for the threeboys together, as Bruno would naturally join them in order that theycould remain together. Since the three would, in later years, have greatauthority in the little community, it would be splendid if they wereeducated alike and could agree thoroughly in everything. "My husbandmeans to go to town in the near future and look for a suitable housewhere they can board," the speaker concluded. "I am sure that you willbe grateful if the question is solved for Bruno, as you would otherwisebe obliged to settle it yourself."
Frau Maxa's heart was very heavy at this news. She already saw theconsequences and pictured the terrible scenes that would result if thethree boys were obliged to live closely together.
"The thought of sending Bruno away from home already troubles megreatly," she said finally. "I do not see the necessity for it. Ourrector, who has offered to teach them out of pure kindness, means to keepthe boys under his care till a year from next spring. They are able tolearn plenty still from him. However, if you have resolved to send yoursons away, I shall be obliged to do the same, as the Rector could notcontinue the lessons for Bruno alone." Mrs. Maxa declined the offer ofher visitor to look up a dwelling-place for Bruno, as she had to talk thematter over first with her brother. He was always her counsellor inthese things, because he was the children's guardian.
The district attorney's wife did not seem gratified with thisinformation. As she was anxious to have the matter settled then andthere, she remarked rather sarcastically that a mother should be able todecide such matters alone. "The boys are sensible enough to behaveproperly without being constantly watched," she added. "I can certainlysay that mine are, and where two hold to the right path, a third is sureto follow."
"My eldest is never one to follow blindly," Mrs. Maxa said withanimation. "I should not wish it either in this case. I shall keep himat home as long as it is possible for me, and after that I shall send himaway under God's protection."
"Just as you say," the other lady uttered, rising and taking leave. "Wecan talk the question of boarding over again another time," she remarkedas she was going away; "when the time comes, my husband's preparation forthe future will be welcome, I am sure."
When the mother, after escorting her guest, came back to the children'sroom, Maezli immediately called out, "Did she say if the two are stilllocked up?"
"What are you inventing, Maezli?" said the mother. "You probably don'tknow yourself what it means."
"Oh, yes, I know," Maezli assured her. "I asked her if the boys werestill locked up because Kurt said that."
Kurt laughed out loud: "Oh, you naughty child to talk so wild! Because Isay that those two ought to be locked up, Maezli runs over and immediatelyasks their mother that question."
Mrs. Maxa now understood clearly where her visitor had heard about herboy's behaviour of yesterday.
"Maezli," she said admonishingly, "have you forgotten that you are not toask questions of grown-up people who come to see me?"
"But why shouldn't I ask what the locked-up children are doing?" Maezlideclared, feigning great pity in her voice.
"Now the foxy little thing wants to incline mother to be comforted bypretending to pity them," Kurt declared.
Suddenly a terrific shout of joy sounded from all voices at once as theyall called: "Uncle Phipp! Uncle Phipp!" In a moment they had disappearedthrough the door.
Kurt jumped out through the window, which was not dangerous for him andwas the shortest way to the street. The mother also ran outside to greetUncle Phipp who was her only brother. He lived on his estate in Silsvalley, which was famous for its fruit. He was always the most welcomeguest in his sister's house. He had been away on a journey and had notmade his appearance for several weeks in Nolla, and his coming wastherefore greeted with special enthusiasm. One could hardly guess thatthere was an uncle in the midst of the mass which was moving forward andtaking up the whole breadth of the road. The five children were hangingon to him on all sides in such a way that it looked as if one solidperson was walking along on many feet.
"Maxa, I have no hand for you as you can see," the brother saluted her."I greet you heartily, though, with my head, which I can still nod."
"No, I want to have your hand," Mrs. Maxa replied. "Lippo can let yourright hand go for a moment. How are you, Philip? Welcome home! Did youhave a pleasant journey and did you find what you were looking for?"
"All has gone to my greatest satisfaction. Forward now, young people,because I want to take off my overcoat," the uncle commanded. "It isfilled with heavy objects which might pull me to the ground."
Shouting with joy, the five now pushed their uncle into the house; theyhad all secretly guessed what the heavy objects in his long pockets were.When the uncle had reached the house, he insisted on taking off his coatalone in order to prevent the things from being hurt. He had to hang itup because the mother insisted that they should go to lunch and postponeeverything else till the afternoon. The next difficult and importantquestion to be settled was, who should be allowed to sit beside UnclePhilip at dinner, because those next had the best chance to talk to him.He chose the youngest two to-day. Leading him in triumph to theinviting-looking table, they placed him in their midst with joyfullysparkling eyes. It was a merry meal. The children were allowed to askhim all they wanted to and he told them so many amusing things about histravels that they could never get weary of listening. Last of all thegood things came the Sunday cake, and when that was eaten, Maezli showedgreat signs of impatience, as if the best of all were still to come.
"I think that Maezli has noticed something," said the uncle; "and one mustnever let such a small and inquisitive nose point into empty air for toolong. We must look now what my overcoat has brought back from the ship."
Maezli who had already jumped up from her chair seized her uncle's hand assoon as he rose. She wanted to be as close to him as possible while hewas emptying the two deep pockets. What lovely red books came out first!He presented them to Bruno and Kurt who appeared extremely pleased withtheir presents.
"This is for mother for her mending" Maezli called out looking withsuspense at her uncle's fingers. He was just pulling out a dainty littlesewing case.
"You guessed wrong that time, Maezli," he said. "Your mother gets apresent, too, but this is for Mea, who is getting to be a young lady.She will soon visit her friends with the sewing case under her arm."
"Oh, how lovely, uncle, how lovely!" Mea cried out, altogether enchantedwith her gift. "I wish you had brought some friends for me with you;they are hard enough to find here."
"I promise to do that another time, Mea. To-day there was no more roomfor them in my overcoat. But now comes the most important thing of all!"and with these words the uncle pulled a large box out of each pocket."These are for the small people," he said, "but do not mix them up. Inone are stamping little horses, and in the other little steami
ng pots.Which is for Maezli?"
"The stamping horses," she said quickly.
"I don't think so. Take it now and look," said the uncle. When Lippohad received his box also, the two ran over to their table, but Maezlisuddenly paused half-way.
"Uncle Philip," she asked eagerly, "has mother gotten something, too,something nice? Can I see it?"
"Yes, something very nice," the uncle answered, "but she has not gottenit yet; one can't see it, but one can hear it."
"Oh, a piano," Maezli guessed quickly.
"No, no, Maezli; you might see as much as that," said the uncle. "Youcouldn't possibly guess it. It can't come out till all the small birdsare tucked into their nests and everything is still and quiet."
Maezli ran to her table at last and when she found a perfect array ofshining copper kettles, cooking pans and pots in her box she forgotcompletely about the horses. She dug with growing astonishment into herbox, which seemed to be filled with ever new and more marvellous objects.Lippo was standing up his beautifully saddled horses in front of him, butthe thing he liked best of all was a groom in a red jacket. He put himfirst on one horse and then on all the others, for, to the boy's greatdelight, he fitted into every saddle. He sat secure, straight andimmovable even when the horses trotted or galloped.
Uncle Philip was less able to stand the quiet which was reigning afterthe presentation of his gifts than were the children, who were completelylost in the new marvels. He told them now that he was ready to take themall on a walk. Maezli was ready before anyone, because she had throwneverything into her box and then with a little pushing had been able toput on the lid. This did not worry her further, so she ran towards theuncle.
"Maezli, you mustn't do that; no, you mustn't," Lippo called after her.But the little girl stood already outside, holding her uncle's hand readyfor the march. Everybody else was ready, as they all had only had oneobject to put away, and the mother gave her orders to Kathy, the cook.
"Come, Lippo, don't stay behind!" the uncle called into the room.
"I have to finish first, then I'll come right away," the little boycalled back.
The mother was ready to go, too, now. "Where is Lippo?" she asked,examining her little brood.
"He sits in there like a mole in his hole and won't come out," said Kurt"Shall I fetch him? He'll come quickly enough then."
"No, no," the mother returned. "I'll attend to it." Lippo was sitting athis little table, laying one horse after the other slowly and carefullyin the box so that they should not be damaged.
"Come, Lippo, come! We must not let Uncle Philip wait," the mother said.
"But, mother, one must not leave before everything is straightened up andput into the wardrobe," Lippo said timidly. "One must always pack upproperly."
"That is true, but I shall help you to-day," said the mother, and withher assistance everything was soon put in order.
"Oh, here comes the slow-poke at last," Kurt cried out.
"No, you must not scold him, for Lippo did right in putting his things inorder before taking a walk," said his mother, who had herself given himthat injunction.
"Bravo, my god-son! I taught you that, but now we must start," said theuncle, extending his hand to the little boy. "Where shall we go?"
"Up to the castle," Kurt quickly suggested. Everybody was satisfied withthe plan and the mother assented eagerly, as she had intended the samething.
"We shall go up towards the castle hill," the uncle remarked as he setout after taking the two little ones by the hand. "We shall have to goaround the castle, won't we? If cross Mr. Trius is keeping watch, wewon't get very close to it, because the property is fenced in for a longway around."
"Oh, we can go up on the road to the entrance," said Kurt with animation."We can look into the garden from there, but everything is overgrown. Onthe right is a wooden fence which we can easily climb. From there we canrun all the way up through the meadows to a thick hawthorn hedge; on theother side of that begin the bushes and behind that the woods with theold fir and pine trees, but we can't climb over it. We could easilyenough get to the castle from the woods."
"You seem to have a very minute knowledge of the place," said the uncle."What does Mr. Trius say to the climbing of hedges? In the meadows thereare beautiful apple-trees as far as I remember."
"He beats everybody he can catch," was Kurt's information, "even if theyhave no intention of taking the apples. Whenever he sees anyone in theneighborhood of the hedge, he begins to strike out at them."
"His intention is probably to show everybody who tries to nose aroundthat the fences are not to be climbed. Let us wait for your mother, whoknows all the little ways. She will tell us where to go."
Uncle Philip glanced back for his sister, who had remained behind withMea and Bruno. While the uncle was amusing the younger ones, the twoothers were eagerly talking over their special problems with her, so thatthey got ahead very slowly.
"To which side shall we go now? As you know the way so well, please tellus where to go," said the uncle when the three had approached.
The mother replied that Uncle Philip knew the paths as well as she, ifnot even better. As long as the decision lay with her, however, shechose the height to the left from which there was a clear view of thecastle.
"Then we'll pass by Apollonie's cottage," said Kurt. "I am glad! Then wecan see what Loneli is doing after yesterday's trouble. She is thenicest child in school."
"Let us go there," the uncle assented. "I shall be glad to see my oldfriend Apollonie again! March ahead now!"
They had soon reached the cottage at the foot of the hill, which laybathed in brilliant sunshine. Only the old apple-tree in the cornerthrew a shadow over the wooden bench beneath it and over a part of thelittle garden. Grandmother and grandchild were sitting on the benchdressed in their Sunday-best and with a book on their knees. A deliciousperfume of rosemary and mignonette filled the air from the littleflower-beds. Uncle Philip looked over the top of the hedge into thegarden.
"Real Sunday peace is resting on everything here. Just look, Maxa!" hecalled out to his sister. "Look at the rose-hushes and the mignonette!How pleasant and charming Apollonie looks in her spotless cap and shiningapron with the apple-cheeked child beside her in her pretty dress!"
Loneli had just noticed her best friends and, jumping up from the bench,she ran to them.
Apollonie, glancing up, now recognized the company, too. Radiant, sheapproached and invited them to step into her garden for a rest. She wasalready opening the door in order to fetch out enough chairs and benchesto seat them all when Mrs. Maxa stopped her. She told Apollonie thattheir time was already very short, as they intended to climb the hill,but they had wished to greet her on their way up and to see herwell-ordered garden.
"How attractively it is laid out, Mrs. Apollonie!" Uncle Philipexclaimed. "This small space is as lovely as the large castle-gardenused to be. Your roses and mignonette, the cabbage, beans and beets, thelittle fountain in the corner are so charming! Your bench under theapple-tree looks most inviting."
"Oh, Mr. Falcon, you are still as fond of joking as ever," Apolloniereturned. "So you think that my rose-beds are as fine as those up thereused to be? Indeed, who has ever seen the like of them or of my wonderfulvegetable garden in the castle-grounds? There has never been such anabundance of cauliflower and peas, such rows of bean-poles, suchsalad-beds. What a delight their care was to me. Such a garden willnever be seen again. I have to sigh every time when I think thatanything so beautiful should be forever lost."
"But that can't be helped," Uncle Philip answered. "There is one greatadvantage you have here. Nobody can possibly disturb your Sunday peace.You need not throw up your hands and exclaim: 'Falcon is the worst ofall.'"
"Oh, Mr. Falcon, so you still remember," Apollonie exclaimed. "Yes, Imust admit that the three young gentlemen have trampled down many a youngplant of mine. Still I should not mind such a thing if I only had thecare of the garden back again, but it doesn't even exist any more. Mr.Trius's
only harvest is hay and apples, and that is all he wantsapparently, because he has thrown everything else out. Please do notthink that I am swimming in pure peace here because no boys are stampingdown my garden. Oh, no! It is very difficult to read my Sunday psalm inpeace when I am given such a bitter soup of grief to swallow as I gotyesterday. It keeps on burning me, and still I have to swallow it."
"You probably mean the Knippel-soup from yesterday?" Kurt interrupted,full of lively interest. Loneli had only just told him that things hadgone very badly the day before when she had returned home all soiled fromher fall and with the empty milk-bottle. So he felt more indignant thanbefore and had immediately interpreted Apollonie's hint. "I want to tellyou, Apollonie, that it was not Loneli's fault in the least. Thoserascals enjoy sticking out their feet and seeing people tumble overthem."
"The child can't possibly have behaved properly, Kurt, or the districtattorney's sons would not have teased her."
"I'll fetch Bruno right away and he'll prove to you that Loneli didnothing whatever. He saw it," Kurt cried eagerly with the intention offetching his brother, who had already started up the hill. But hismother detained him. It was not her wish to fan Bruno's rage afresh bythe discovery that Loneli had been considered guilty. She thereforenarrated the incident to Apollonie just as Bruno had reported it.
Loneli's blue eyes glistened with joy when the story was told accordingto the truth. She knew that the words spoken by the rector's widow hadgreat weight with her grandmother.
"Can you see now that it was not Loneli's fault?" Kurt cried out as soonas his mother had finished.
"Yes, I see it and I am happy that it is so," said Apollonie. "How couldone have suspected that boys who had a good education should want to hurtothers without cause? The young Falcon would never have done such athing, I know that. He only ran into the vegetable garden because histwo friends were chasing him from both sides."
Uncle Philip laughed: "I am glad you are so just to me, Mrs. Apollonie.Even when you scolded the Falcon properly for tramping down your plants,you knew that it was not in maliciousness he did it but in self-defence.I am afraid it is time to go now" and with these words he heartily shookhis old acquaintance by the hand. The two little ones, who had neverleft his side, were ready immediately to strike out once more.
They soon reached the hill and the castle, which was bathed in the softevening light, lay openly before them. A hushed silence reigned aboutthe gray building and the old pine trees under the tower, whose brancheslay trailing on the ground. For years no human hand had touched them.Where the blooming garden had been wild bushes and weeds covered theground.
The mother and uncle, settling down on a tree-trunk, looked in silencetowards the castle, while the children were hunting for strawberries onthe sunny incline.
"How terribly deserted and lonely it all looks," Uncle Philip said aftera while. "Let us go back. When the sun is gone, it will get more drearystill."
"Don't you notice anything, Philip?" asked his sister, taken up with herown thoughts. "Can you see that all the shutters are closed except thoseon the tower balcony? Don't you remember who used to live there?"
"Certainly I do. Mad Bruno used to live there," the brother answered."As his rooms alone seem to be kept in order, he might come back?"
"Why, he'll never come back," Uncle Philip exclaimed. "You know that weheard ages ago that he is an entirely broken man and that he lay deadlysick in Malaga. Mr. Tillman, who went to Spain, must certainly knowabout it. Restless Baron Bruno has probably found his last resting-placelong ago. Why should you look for him here?"
"I only think that in that case a new owner of the place would haveturned up by now," was his sister's opinion. "Two young members of thefamily, the children of Salo and Eleanor, are still alive. I wonderwhere these children are. They would be the sole owners after theiruncle's death."
"They have long ago been disinherited," the brother exclaimed. "I do notknow where they are, but I have an idea on that subject. I shall tellyou about it to-night when we are alone. Here you are so absent-minded.You throw worried looks in all directions as if you were afraid that thisperfectly solid meadow were a dangerous pond into which your little broodmight fall and lose their lives."
The children had scattered in all directions. Bruno had gone far to oneside and was deeply immersed in a little book he had taken with him. Meahad discovered the most beautiful forget-me-nots she had ever seen in allher life, which grew in large masses beside the gurgling mountain stream.Beside herself with transport, she flew from place to place where thesmall blue flowers sparkled, for she wanted to pick them all.
Kurt had climbed a tree and from the highest branch he could reach wassearchingly studying the castle, as if something special was to bediscovered there. Maezli, having discovered some strawberries, had pulledLippo along with her. She wanted him to pick those she had found whileshe hunted for more in the meantime. The mother was very busy keeping aneye on them all. Kurt might become too daring in his climbing feats.Maezli might run away too far and Lippo might put his strawberries intohis trousers-pocket as he had done once already, and cause great harm tohis little Sunday suit.
"You fuss and worry too much about the children," Uncle Philip said."Just let the children simply grow, saying to them once in a while, 'Ifyou don't behave, you'll be locked up.'"
"Yes, that certainly sounds simple," said his sister. "It is a pity youhave no brood of your own to bring up, Philip, as lively as mine, andeach child entirely different from the others, so that one has to beurged to a thing that another has to be kept from. I get the careswithout looking for them. A new great worry has come to me to-day, whicheven you won't be able to just push aside."
Mrs. Maxa told her brother now about the morning's interview with thewife of the district attorney. She told him of the problem she had withBruno's further education, because the lessons he had been having fromthe Rector would end in the fall, and of her firm intention of keepinghim from living together with his two present comrades. The three hadnever yet come together without bringing as a result some mean deed onone side and an explosion of rage on the other.
"Don't you think, Philip, that it will be a great care for me to thinkthat the three are living under one roof? Don't you think so yourself?"Mrs. Maxa concluded.
"Oh, Maxa, that is an old story. There have been boys at all times whofought together and then made peace again."
"Philip, that does not console me," the sister answered. "That has neverbeen Bruno's way at all. He never fights that way. But it is hard totell what he might do in a fit of anger at some injustice or meanness,and that is what frightens me so."
"His godfather of the same name has probably passed that on to him.Nobody more than you, Maxa, has always tried to wash him clean and excusehim for all his deeds of anger. In your indestructible admiration ..."
Uncle Philip got no further, as all the children now came running towardthem. The two little ones both tried hard to put the biggeststrawberries they had found into the mouths of their mother and uncle.Mea could not hold her magnificent bunch of forget-me-nots near enough totheir eyes to be admired. The two older boys had approached, too, asthey had an announcement to make. The sun had gone down behind themountain, so they had remembered that it was time to go home.
Mother and uncle rose from their seats and the whole group started downthe mountainside. The two little ones were gaily trotting beside theuncle, bursting into wild shouting now and then, for he made such leapsthat they flew high into the air sometimes. He held them so firmly,however, that they always reached the ground safely.
At the entrance to the house Kurt had a brilliant idea. "Oh, mother," hecalled out excitedly over the prospect, "tonight we must have the storyof the Wallerstaetten family. It will fit so well because we were able tosee the castle today, with all its gables, embrasures and battlements."
But the mother answered: "I am sorry to say we can't. Uncle is heretoday, and as he has to leave early tomorrow morning, I have to talk tohim
tonight. You have to go to bed early, otherwise you will be tootired to get up tomorrow after your long walk."
"Oh, what a shame, what a shame!" Kurt lamented. He was still hopingthat he would find out something in the story about the ghost ofWildenstein, despite the fact that one could not really believe in him.Sitting on the tree that afternoon, he had been lost in speculations asto where the ghost might have appeared.
When the mother went to Maezli's bed that night to say prayers with hershe found her still very much excited, as usual, by the happenings of theday. She always found it difficult to quiet the little girl, but to-dayshe seemed filled by very vivid impressions. Now that everything wasstill, they seemed to come back to her.
Maezli sat straight up in her bed with shining eyes as soon as her motherappeared. "Why was the Knippel-soup allowed to spoil Apollonie's Sundaypeace?" she cried out.
"Where have you heard that, Maezli?" the mother said, quite frightened.She already saw the moment before her when Maezli would tell the districtattorney's wife that new appellation. "You must never use thatexpression any more, Maezli. You see, nobody would be able to know whatyou mean. Kurt invented it apparently when Apollonie spoke about havingso much to swallow. He should not have said it. Do you understand,Maezli, that you must not say it any more?"
"Yes, but why is anyone allowed to spoil Apollonie's Sunday peace?" Maezlipersevered. Apollonie was her special friend, whom she wanted to keepfrom harm.
"No one should do it, Maezli," the mother replied. It is wrong to spoilanybody's Sunday peace and no one should do it."
"But our good God should quickly call down, 'Don't do it, don't do it!'Then they would know that they were not allowed," was Maezli's opinion.
"He does it, Maezli! He does it every time anybody does wrong," said themother, "for the evil-doer always hears such a voice that calls out tohim: 'Don't do it, don't do it!' But sometimes he does it in spite of thevoice. Even young children like you, Maezli, hear the voice when theyfeel like doing wrong, and they do wrong just the same."
"I only wonder why God does not punish them right away; He ought to dothat," Maezli eagerly replied.
"But He does," said the mother. As soon as anybody has done wrong, hefeels a great weight on his heart so that he keeps on thinking, 'I wish Ihadn't done it!' Then our good God is good and merciful to him and doesnot punish him further. He gives him plenty of time to come to Him andtell Him how sorry he is to have done wrong. God gives him the chance tobeg His pardon. But if he does not do that, he is sure to be punished sothat he will do more and more evil and become more terribly unhappy allthe time."
"I'll look out, too, now if I can hear the voice," was Maezli'sresolution.
"The chief thing is to follow the voice, Maezli," said the mother. "Butwe must be quiet now. Say your prayers, darling, then you will soon goto sleep."
Maezli said her little prayer very devoutly. As there was nothing more totrouble her, she lay down and was half asleep as soon as her motherclosed the door behind her.
She was still expected at four other little beds. Every one of thechildren had a problem to bring to her, but there was so little time leftto-day that they had to be put off till to-morrow. In fact, they wereall glad to make a little sacrifice for their beloved uncle. When shecame back into the room, she found him hurrying impatiently up and down.He could hardly wait to make his sister the announcement to which he hadalready referred several times.
"Are you coming at last?" he called to her. "Are you not a bit curiouswhat present I have brought you?"
"Oh, Philip, I am sure it can only be a joke," Mrs. Maxa replied. "Ishould love to know what you meant when you spoke of the children ofWallerstaetten."
"It happens to be one and the same thing," the brother replied. "Comehere now and sit down beside me and get your mending-basket right away sothat you won't have to jump up again. I know you. You will probably runoff two or three times to the children."
"No, Philip, to-day is Sunday and I won't mend. The children are allsleeping peacefully, so please tell me about it."
Uncle Philip sat down quietly beside his sister and began: "As surely asI am now sitting here beside you, Maxa, so surely young Leonore ofWallerstaetten was sitting beside me three days ago. I am really as sureas anything that it was Leonore's child. She is only an hour's distanceaway from you and is probably going to stay in this neighborhood for afew weeks. I wanted to bring you this news as a present."
Mrs. Maxa first could not say a word from astonishment.
"Are you quite sure, Philip?" she asked, wishing for an affirmation."How could you become so sure that the child you saw was Leonore's littledaughter?"
"First of all, because nobody who has known Leonore can ever forget whatshe looked like. The child is exactly like her and looks at one just theway Leonore used to do. Secondly, the child's name was Leonore, too.Thirdly, she had the same brown curls rippling down her shoulders thather mother had, and she spoke with a voice as soft and charming. For thefifth and sixth reasons, because only Leonore could have such a child,for there could not be two people like her in the whole world." UnclePhilip had grown very warm during these ardent proofs.
"Please tell me exactly where and how you saw the child," the sisterurged.
So the brother related how he had come back three days ago from a tripand, arriving in town, had given orders in the hotel for a carriage to bebrought round to take him back to Sils that same evening. The host hadthen informed him that two ladies had just ordered a carriage to takethem to the same destination. He thought that as long as they had seemedto be strangers and were anxious to know more about the road, they wouldbe very glad to have a companion who was going the same way. So the hosthad made all necessary arrangements, as there were no objections to theplan on either side. When the carriage had driven up, he had seen thatthe ladies had with them a little daughter who was to occupy theback-seat of the carriage.
"This daughter, as I thought, was Leonore's child. I am as certain ofthat as of my relation with you," the brother concluded.
Mrs. Maxa was filled with great excitement.
Could one of the children for whom she had vainly longed and inquired forsuch long years be really so near her? Would she be able to see her? Whowere the ladies to whom she belonged?
To all her various questions the brother could only answer that theladies with whom Leonore was living came from the neighborhood ofHannover. They had taken a little villa in Sils on the mountain, whichthey had seen advertised for the summer months. He had shown the ladieshis estate in Sils and had offered to serve them in whatever way theywished. Then they had taken leave.
Leonore's name had wakened so many happy memories of her beautifulchildhood and youth in Mrs. Maxa that she began to revive those timeswith her brother and tirelessly talked of the days they had spent theretogether with her unforgettable friend Leonore and her two cousins. Thebrother seemed just as ready to indulge in those delightful memories asshe was, and whenever she ceased, he began again to talk of all theunusual happenings and exploits that had taken place with their dearfriends.
"Do you know, Maxa, I think we had much better playmates than yourchildren have," he said finally. "If Bruno beats his comrades, I like itbetter than if he acted as they do."
Brother and sister had not talked so far into the night for a long time.Nevertheless, Mrs. Maxa could not get to sleep for hours afterwards.Leonore's image with the long, brown curls and the winning expression inher eyes woke her lively desire to see the child that resembled her somuch.