CHAPTER VII
THE MOTHER'S ABSENCE HAS CONSEQUENCES
Next morning Salo was allowed to go into his sister's room in order tosay good-bye to her. She looked at him so cheerfully that he asked witheager delight, "Do you feel so much better already, Leonore?"
"Oh, yes, I feel as if I were at home," she replied with shining eyes."I feel as if our mother had come down from heaven to take care of me."
"When you can get up and go downstairs you will be happier still. I knowhow much you will enjoy meeting the whole family," said Salo. "Then youwill feel as if you were in a real home that belongs to you."
"It is such a shame that you have to go," Leonore sighed, but this timethe tears did not come quite so urgently. How things had changed sinceyesterday--how different it was now to stay behind!
At this moment Mrs. Maxa entered the room.
She had left it as she wanted to give brother and sister an opportunityto see each other alone, but the time had come for Salo to depart, and hewas obliged to leave his sister. To-day it seemed harder for him to goaway than leave Leonore behind.
"I can't even say that I wish you to come soon. I have to hope that youcan remain here a long while," he said cheerily, while Leonore wassmiling bravely. Uncle Philip, ready for the journey, stood beside thecarriage. All the children ran towards Salo as soon as he appeared, andwhen he said good-bye, he was treated like a friend of the family of manyyears' standing. Each of the children showed his grief in a specialmanner. Maezli cried loudly over and over again, "Oh, Salo, please comesoon again, please come soon again."
When the carriage was rolling away and the handkerchiefs that flutteredhim last greetings were all Salo could see from the distance, he rapidlybrushed away a few tears. He had never felt so thoroughly at homeanywhere in the world before. How happy he had been! The thought ofgoing far away and possibly never coming back gave him a little pang ofgrief.
When the children returned at noon from school they were still full oftheir vivid impression of Salo's sudden appearance and departure. Theywere all anxious to tell their mother about it, because they knew thatthey could always count on her lively sympathy. One or the other of thechildren kept forgetting that the mother must not be sought and wouldabsent-mindedly make an attempt to go upstairs, but they were always metby unexpected resistance. Lippo on his arrival home from school hadposted himself there to see that his mother's orders were strictly kept.He also had missed her desperately, but he had nevertheless rememberedher injunctions and was quite certain that the others might forget andact contrary to her orders. Placing himself on the first step, he wouldhold any of his brothers or sisters with both hands when they cametowards him as they dashed upstairs. When he cried out loudly, "Wemustn't do it, we mustn't do it," they ran away again, quite frightened,for his horrified shrieks might have penetrated into the sick-room.Kathy was the only one who appreciated Lippo's worth. She had receivedorders to remind the children of the strict command, and she knew quitewell from previous experiences that she could never have succeeded aseffectively as he. Maezli, meanwhile, was sitting at Apollonie's table,gayly eating a snow-white milk-pudding which Apollonie knew so well howto prepare. Whenever Maezli came to a meal at her house, she always setthis favorite dish before the child.
The days when Maezli came for a visit here were happy days for Loneli.There was always something funny going on at meal-time, because Maezli hadso many amusing things to speak about. On those days she was neverobliged to tell her grandmother exactly what lessons she had known inschool and which she had not. Usually Apollonie was dreadfully anxiousto hear how punctually she had fulfilled her duties, and she always choselunch-time for that purpose because then no other affair interfered withtalking. Beaming with joy, Loneli now sat beside Maezli, who was tellinguninterruptedly about Salo. She told them that he was friendlier andnicer than any boy she had ever seen, and she quoted Bruno, Mea and Kurtas saying exactly the same thing. Usually they disagreed on such points.Apollonie was quite absorbed in listening, too, and nodding her head oncein a while, she seemed to say: "Yes, yes, I know that he couldn't becalled Salo for nothing." This interesting subject of conversation kepther longer than usual to-day.
"Suddenly she started up, quite frightened. Oh, is it possible? It isnearly one o'clock. Hurry up, Loneli, or you'll be late for school.Maezli, you and I have something to do, too, this afternoon. I shall takeyou on a walk and I'll tell you where we are going as soon as we start."
As the dishes had to be washed first, Apollonie thought that Maezli mightgo out to play in the garden. But Maezli preferred to see the plateswashed and dried and afterwards set in neat rows. After these tasksApollonie put on a good apron, a beautiful neck-cloth, and after packingup several shirts, cloths and stockings into a large basket the two setout.
"Where are we going?" Maezli asked, inspecting the basket. "Who are youtaking these things to?"
"They belong to Mr. Trius," replied Apollonie. "We are going all theway up to the castle, as far as the great iron door. When I pull thebell-knob, Mr. Trius comes and gets this basket. You'll be able to peepin through the door till he comes back again with the empty basket."
"Can one look into the garden from there and see the bigmignonette-bushes that mama liked so much?" Maezli asked.
"Yes, yes, the garden is there," Apollonie replied with a profound sigh,"but the great rose and mignonette beds are gone. It would take a longtime nowadays to find even a couple of the flowers."
"We could surely find them inside," Maezli said with great certainty.
"But Maezli, what are you thinking of? Nobody is allowed to go in. Yousee, Mr. Trius lets nobody either into the garden or into the castle,"Apollonie repeated with great emphasis. "I should have gone in long agoif he had let me. Oh, how I should have loved to go, and I know howbadly needed I am. What a dreadful disorder all the rooms must be in! IfI could only go a single time to do the most necessary things!" Apolloniein her great trouble had quite forgotten that she was speaking to littleMaezli.
"Why should you bring him so many shirts and stockings if he doesn't letyou in? Don't bring him anything," Maezli cried out indignantly.
"No, no, Maezli. You see, these are his shirts and stockings, and I haveonly washed and mended them for him," Apollonie explained.
"Besides, Mr. Trius can't do as he pleases. Do you see the open windowsup there? No, you couldn't see them from here. Well, up there lives asick gentleman, a baron, who won't let anybody come into the garden. Heis the master there and can give orders, and people must not disobey him.Look, one can see the open windows quite plainly now."
"Can we see the bad baron, too?" asked Maezli peeping up searchingly.
"I did not say that he was bad, Maezli, I only said that he can giveorders," Apollonie corrected. "And you can't see him because he is lyingsick in bed. Look, look! the fine, thick raspberry bushes used to bethere." Apollonie was pointing to wild-looking shrubs that were climbingup the castle incline. "Oh, how different it all used to be! Twosplendid hedges used to run up there, then across and down again on theother side. Both girls and boys used to feast on them for whole days ata time, and there were always enough left for pots and pots full of jam.And now how terrible it all looks! Everything is growing wild. Nobodywho has known the place the way I knew it could have ever thought that itwould look like this."
Maezli was not very deeply moved by the change. She had long been gazingat the high gate which was to be their destination and which they werenearing rapidly.
"Does Mr. Trius take his big stick along when he comes down to thegate?" she asked, looking cautiously about her.
"Yes, yes, he never goes about without it, Maezli, but you need not beafraid," Apollonie calmed her. "He won't hurt you, and I should advisehim not to. Look! there he comes already. He has been spying about, andnothing ever escapes him."
Mr. Trius was already standing at the gate with his stick and opened it."That is fine," he said, receiving the basket, and was in the act ofclosing the door agai
n immediately.
"No, no, Mr. Trius, don't do that!" said Apollonie, restraining him.She had vigorously pushed back the door and posted herself firmly in theopening. "I always do my duty punctually and I like to do it because youbelong to the castle. But you can at least let me have a word about themaster's health."
"The same," was the reply.
"The same; what does that mean?" Apollonie retorted. "Do you watch himwhile he sleeps? Are you cooking the right things for him? What does themaster eat?"
"Venison."
"What? How can you cook such things for him? Such rich and heavy meat fora sick man! What does the doctor say to that?"
"Nothing."
"What, nothing? He certainly must say what his patient ought to eat. Whois his doctor? I hope a good one. I am afraid the master is nottroubling much about it. Did you fetch the one from Sils? He is verycareful, I know."
"No."
"Who do you have?"
"No one."
Apollonie threw up her arms in violent agitation. "So the baron lies upthere sick and lonely and nobody even fetches a doctor. Oh, if hismother knew this! That simply won't do, and I am going in. Please let mein. The master won't have to see me at all. All I want to do is to cooksomething strengthening for him. I shall only put his room in order, andif he happens to get up, I can make his bed. Oh, please let me in, Mr.Trius! You know that I'll do anything in the world for you. Please letme nurse the sick master!"
Apollonie's voice had grown supplicating.
"Forbidden," was the curt reply.
"But I am no stranger here. I have served in this house for more thanthirty years," Apollonie went on eagerly. "I know what is needed andwhat the master ought to have. Things are not attended to at all, Ifear, and indeed I know it. After all I am an old acquaintance, and I'llonly come an hour a day to do the most urgent task."
"Nobody is allowed to come," Mr. Trius said again in his unchangeable,dry tone. It was all the same to him whether Apollonie begged orscolded. In her anxiety about the sick master she had forgotteneverything else.
"Where is the child?" she suddenly cried out in great anxiety. "Goodgracious, where is she? She must have run into the garden."
Mr. Trius had suddenly grown more lively. Throwing the gate to withgreat violence, he turned the huge key before pulling it rapidly out. Herealized that Apollonie was capable of doing anything in her excitementabout the lost child.
"Witch's baggage!" he murmured angrily. Swinging his stick in athreatening way, he ran towards the castle.
"Mr. Trius," Apollonie screamed after him with all her might, "if youtouch the child you will have to reckon with me, do you hear? Hold thestick down. She can't help being frightened if she sees you."
But he had quickly been lost from view. While Apollonie and Mr. Triushad been absorbed in their violent altercation and had stared at eachother, she in wild excitement and he in stiff immovability, Maezli hadslipped from between the two as swiftly as a little mouse. Then she hadmerrily wandered up towards the castle hoping that she would soon see thegarden with the lovely flowers. But all she could see were wild bushesand stretches of grass with only the yellow sparkling flowers which growin every common meadow. This was not what Maezli had expected, so shewent up to the terrace of the castle and looked about from there for theflower garden. At the end of the terrace where the little pine woodbegan she saw something that looked like fiery yellow flowers and quicklyran there. But instead of flowers she saw a lion skin shining in thesun. To see what was under the skin Maezli came closer. A head wasraised up and two sharp eyes were directed towards her. It was a man whohad half raised himself on the long chair which was covered by the skin.As soon as she saw that it was a human being and not a lion, she camenearer and asked quite confidentially, "Do you happen to know where thebeautiful old mignonette is, that mama saw in the garden here?"
"No," the man answered curtly.
"Maybe Mr. Trius knows, but one can't ask him. Are you afraid of Mr.Trius, too?" Maezli asked.
"No."
"But he always goes about with a big stick. Kurt has made a song abouthim where he tells everything that Mr. Trius does," Maezli chattered on."It begins like this:
Old Trius lives in our town, A haughty man is he, And every one that he can catch He beats right heartily.
I don't remember the rest, but it is quite long. But he wants to make asong about Salo now, because he is so awfully nice. He said it as soonas Salo went away today. We all like him, and Bruno said that if he madea stupid song he would tear it up."
"Is everybody here called Salo and Bruno?" the gentleman burst outangrily.
"No, nobody except Bruno, you know; he is my big brother," Maezliexplained. "Salo only came yesterday and went away again to-day. But hedid not want to go and we wanted to keep him. But he was not allowed to.If his sister is well again, she has to go away, too. But we don't knowher yet. Her name is Leonore."
"Who sent you here?" the gentleman ejaculated harshly. But Maezli onlylooked at him in astonishment.
"Nobody has sent me. Nobody knows where I am, not even Apollonie," Maezlibegan to explain. "I only ran away because Apollonie had to tell Mr.Trius so many things and I wanted to see the mignonette. I am visitingApollonie because mama has to nurse Leonore, who is ill and can't comedown. Because I don't obey Kathy very well and she has to cook, I spendthe days with Apollonie. Oh, here he comes!" Maezli interrupted herselfsuddenly, for she was frightened. Coming close to her new acquaintance,as if to seek his protection, she whispered confidentially. "Oh, won'tyou help me, please, if he tries to hurt me?"
Mr. Trius was rushing towards them, holding out his stick in front likean emblem of his profession. The gentleman only made a light gesturewith his hand, and Mr. Trius disappeared as he had come.
"Won't he hurt me if I come down to the door where he stands?" Maezliasked. She retreated slightly from her protector, whom she had heldtightly in her fear of the stick.
"No," he replied curtly, but his voice did not sound as severe as before,a fact which Maezli noticed immediately. She was very grateful to him forchasing Mr. Trius away and she now felt desirous of doing him a servicein return.
"Do you always have to sit alone here all the time? Does no one come tosee you?" she asked, full of sympathy.
"No."
"Oh, then I must come to you another time and I'll keep you company,"Maezli said consolingly. "Does the bad baron never come down to youhere?" she asked anxiously.
"Where is he?" came a second question.
"Don't you know that?" Maezli said in great surprise. "He is up therewhere the windows are open." With this Maezli looked up, and walking closeto the chair, whispered cautiously, "A sick baron lies up there.Apollonie says that he is not bad, but I know that one has to be afraidof him. Are you afraid of him?"
"No."
"Then I won't be afraid of him either," Maezli remarked, quite reassured.The gentleman who had chased away Mr. Trius so easily and was not afraidof the bad baron gave her all the confidence in the world. Under hisprotection she could face every danger.
"I'll go home now, but I'll come soon again," and with this Maezli gaveher hand in a most winning way. When she wanted to say good-bye sherealized that she did not know either the gentleman's name or title, soshe stopped.
"I am the Castle Steward," said the gentleman, helping Maezli. When theleave-taking was done Maezli ran back towards the door. Sure enough, Mr.Trius was standing inside the portals and Apollonie on the outside, forthe careful man had not opened them again. He thought that the excitedwoman might forcibly enter the garden in order to seek the child.
"God be thanked that you are here again!" she cried when Maezli came out.She quickly took her hand. Mr. Trius, after violently shutting thegate, had immediately turned his back upon the visitors.
"I was simply frightened to death, Maezli. How could you run away fromme? I did not know where you had got to."
"You didn't need to be so frightened," Maezli said with calm assura
nce."I was with the Castle-Steward. I don't need to be afraid of anythingwith him, not even of Mr. Trius."
"What, the Castle-Steward! What are you saying, Maezli? Who said it wasthe Steward?" Apollonie's words were full of anxiety, as if Maezli mightbe threatened with great danger.
"He told me so himself. He was sitting all alone under a big tree. Hesits there alone all the time. But I am going up to see him soon again,"Maezli informed her.
"No, no, Maezli, what are you thinking of? You can't do it if he has nottold you to. I am sure Mr. Trius will see that you won't get in thereany more," said Apollonie, and she was quite sure that Maezli's plan wouldnever succeed.
But if Maezli ever made a discovery, she was not easily led away.
"Yes, but he won't be allowed to stop me," she said a little scornfully.
That evening Loneli was allowed to bring Maezli home. She always loved togo to Mrs. Maxa's house, because Kurt and Mea were her best friends.Loneli was always so friendly and obliging to everybody that the schoolchildren often asked her to deliver messages. This often took place incases of estrangements when a third person was needed. Loneli had beenasked after school to-day to give a message to Mea and she was glad ofthe chance to deliver it.
Mea had sent a proposal of peace to Elvira through Loneli, for she hatedthe constant sulking of her friend and the unpleasant new manner sheexhibited in turning her back upon her. Mea had twice before tried to bereconciled to the embittered Elvira, but unfortunately in vain. She didnot dare to admit this to Kurt, who would not have approved of herbehaviour but would have even made a horrible song about it. But onecould always rely on Loneli, who was discreet. Mea, standing at thewindow, saw Loneli coming towards the house and ran down to meet her.
"I have to tell you something terribly sad about Elvira," Loneli said,quite downcast.
"What is it? What is it?" Mea asked.
"She doesn't ever want to renew her friendship with you and she has askedme to tell you that. You may be sure that I should not tell you if I didnot have to," Loneli added, "because it makes me so sad."
Mea reflected a moment, wondering what she had really done. All she hadbeen guilty of was accusing Elvira of an act of injustice. So allfriendly feelings between them were to be withdrawn for all time as herpunishment.
"Elvira can sulk for the rest of eternity, if she wants to," Mea said nowwithout the slightest trace of sadness. Loneli was greatly surprised."There are other people in this world besides her. I should have lovedto tell Elvira who was staying with us. Never has anybody been so niceand pleased us so. I wish I could have told her who is here now, thoughwe don't know her yet; but Elvira keeps on turning her back on me. Yousee, Loneli, the nicest boy, about Bruno's age, came to see us, and hissister is sick upstairs. We are not allowed to see her just yet, but Ican hardly wait till she comes down. If she is as nice as her brother,she is the nicest child any of us have ever seen."
At this description Loneli's vivacious eyes fairly gleamed with sympathy.
"What is her name," she asked expectantly.
"Leonore," Mea answered.
"Oh," Loneli immediately began, "my grandmother also knew a young ladycalled Leonore. She always says that that young lady was as lovely as anangel and that there could not be anybody in the world as wonderful asshe."
"I am rather glad if Leonore is not like an angel, for she might not bemy friend then," Mea said quickly. "Elvira even, who certainly is not atall like an angel, has to break her friendship with me every few weeks."
"Maybe she does that because she is so little like an angel," Lonelisuggested.
At this both children laughed. Often Loneli found exactly the right wordto say which would throw light on the matter. Kurt always enjoyed theseremarks of hers.
At that moment shrieks of joy sounded from the house: "Mama is coming!Mama is coming!"
Lippo, the watchman, had posted himself again on the stairs as soon as hehad returned from school, and he had found ample work there. Kurt hadagain forgotten the command and had to be chased away, and even Bruno hadmade an attempt to quietly steal up to his mother. But all this had onlybrought horrified cries from the little boy.
They had both meant no wrong whatever. All they had wanted was toquickly say a word to the mother through the open door. Nevertheless,Lippo had grown terribly wrought up about it. A firm command had beengiven, and they had tried to break it, so they all had been obliged togive way before his violent noise.
A strange gentleman had come, too, who was half-way up the stairs withtwo leaps. But Lippo had grabbed the tails of his coat and, holding onto them with both hands, shrieked, "Nobody is allowed to go up. You mustnot go up."
Laughingly turning about, the gentleman said, "Just let me go, littleone. I am allowed because I am the doctor. Your uncle told me where togo, so I'll easily find my way. But I'll make use of you some day, foryou are a splendid sentinel."
When the doctor on his return found him still on the same spot, he calledhim a pillar of good order and told him that he would send for him if heshould ever need a reliable watchman.
Soon after, Lippo uttered sudden shouts of joy, for he saw his mothercoming downstairs. What a surprise it was to see her when they hadthought that she would be shut up for one or two days longer!
"Mama is coming! Mama is coming!"
All had heard his exclamations and Mea was the first to appear, pullingLoneli after her. Bruno came rushing from one side and Kurt from theother, and Maezli shot like an arrow right into their midst. The motherfound herself solidly surrounded.
"Mama, just think--"
"Oh, listen, mama!"
"Oh, mama, I want to tell you--"
"Do you know, mama?"
This came from all sides and all at once.
"To-morrow, children, to-morrow," said the mother. "We must be veryhappy that we can see each other so soon again. I wanted to send one ofyou to Apollonie, but I am glad to see you here, Loneli."
Mrs. Maxa now told Loneli the message she was to take to hergrandmother. The doctor had just been there and had found Leonore muchbetter already. As her fever had gone down, he feared no seriousillness. Leonore was to spend several more days in bed and therefore shewas to have a nurse who could also take care of her at night-time. Forthis nobody better than grandmother Apollonie could be found, and Mrs.Maxa would be so glad for her patient's and her own sake if she couldarrange to come to the house for several days and nights. She toldLoneli to tell her grandmother that the little girl was named Leonore andthat Mrs. Maxa was quite sure she would not be hard to take care of.
The mother would not allow herself to be detained any longer. To all thequestions which stormed in upon her she only had one answer: "To-morrow,children, to-morrow." Then she disappeared again into the sick room.
"Please tell me what she is like, when you have seen her. I am socurious," said Loneli, taking leave, and Mea promised to give thesympathetic Loneli a full report of everything.
Next morning extremely early Apollonie appeared at Mrs. Maxa's house.As the door was not open yet, she knocked quietly and after a while Kathyappeared with heavy, sleepy eyes.
"Why should anybody rush about at this early hour," she said a littleangrily. It did not suit her at all that Apollonie should have found outwhat a short time she had been astir.
"I begin my day at this hour," said Apollonie, "and there is no need forme to rush about. I can leave that to those who get up late. I havecome to take Mrs. Rector's place in the sick room."
"She hasn't even called yet," Kathy flung out.
"So much the better, then I have at least not come too late. I can findsome work everywhere," and with this Apollonie entered the living roomand began to set it in order.
Kathy did not hinder her and, to show her gratitude, attempted to start alittle conversation. But Apollonie was not in the mood for that. Shewas solely filled by the question who the sick Leonore was that she wasgoing to nurse. Could it be possible?
That moment a bell sounded from up
stairs, and Apollonie obeyed the call.Mrs. Maxa, opening the door, let her enter. Wide awake, Leonore wassitting up in bed. Her thick, curly hair was falling far down below hershoulders, and her dark, solemn eyes were gazing with surprise atApollonie. The latter looked immovably at the little girl, while tearswere coursing down her cheeks.
"Oh, oh," she said, as soon as she was able to control her emotion, "onedoes not need to ask where our little Leonore comes from. It seems to meas if old times had come back again. Yes, she looked exactly like thatwhen she came to the castle; only she was not quite so pale."
"Leonore," Mrs. Maxa said, "Mrs. Apollonie has known both your fatherand mother very well. So I thought that you would like to have her for anurse."
"Certainly," Leonore replied happily, while she stretched out her hand ina friendly manner towards Apollonie. "Won't you tell me everything youknow about them?" Apollonie was only too glad to do that, but in heragitation she had first to wipe her eyes.
There was no end to the children's enthusiasm when they found that theirmother was to be their own again. The unaccustomed separation had seemedmuch longer and harder to bear than they had imagined, but it was allover now, she was back and would be theirs now for all time to come.
Bruno suggested that they should divide up their mother's time betweenthem to-day. This would make it possible for all to get her hearingseparately. In all this time a great deal of matter had accumulatedwhich was crying to be heard. If they were all to talk to her at once,as had happened several times before, no one would have any satisfaction,as she might not even be able to understand them. So it was settled thatevery child should have their mother alone for an hour, and they were totake their turns according to age.
"So of course the first hour after school from eleven till twelve belongsto me," was Bruno's statement.
"From one till two I shall have my turn," Mea cried out. She wascounting on asking her mother so many questions that they might easilytake three hours. She had no communications to make but she was terriblyeager to hear all about Leonore.
"I'll get the time between four and five o'clock," said Kurt. This termsuited him exactly, as he had a secret hope of prolonging it somewhat.The two little ones were to have the remaining time before supper, andKurt thought that they could not have very much to tell, whereas he wasin need of a great deal of advice.
The mother had been quite certain that Bruno in his interview with herwould make a last, desperate effort to escape having to live with theKnippel boys. What was her surprise when she found that this had beenentirely pushed into the background by his lively sympathy in Salo'sdestiny.
Bruno's thoughts were constantly occupied by the thought that his new,charming friend stood entirely alone in the world. As Salo had no onewho could help him to find a home, Bruno hoped that his mother would beable to give him some advice. He felt sure that she would gladly dothis, for she loved both children tenderly, as she had formerly lovedtheir parents.
The boy had been absolutely right when he supposed that Mrs. Maxa wouldbe glad to help them, but she had to tell Bruno frankly that there was noadvice she was able to give. She had no authority over the children andcould therefore do nothing, as everything depended on Salo's earlycompletion of his studies so that he could choose an occupation. Thiswould have to be settled by the gentleman of whom Salo had spoken. Hewas probably a relation of their mother's who had undertaken the care ofthe children.
Bruno was terribly cast down when he heard this. When his mother did notgive him help and counsel right away, she usually gave him some hope bysaying, "We shall see." As she had not said this to-day, he felt certainthat nothing could be done. But the mother's unhappy face showed toBruno that her disability did not come from a lack of sympathy, and thatit pained her very much that she could do nothing.
When Bruno came out of the room he was very silent and sadder than he hadever been in his life.
Mea, on the contrary, came skipping out from her interview. Her motherhad told her that Leonore was charming, refined and modest, besides beingextremely grateful for every little favor. But what thrilled Mea beyondeverything was that Leonore had repeatedly told her mother how much shelooked forward to meeting her, because the two were of an age. Leonore'sonly fear was that Mea might find her rather tiresome. All the girls inthe boarding school had always accused her of that, for she was oftenterribly unhappy, and she could not help it. Mea was more eager thanever now to meet Leonore, for she was already filled with a warm love forthe sick child. She could talk and think of practically nothing butLeonore.
"I certainly have to make a song about this violent new friendship," Kurtsaid in the evening, when Mea had urged more than once, "Oh, mother, Ihope you won't let Leonore go as soon as she can come down and the doctorsays she is well; otherwise we shall barely be able to becomeacquainted."
Mea flared like a rocket at her brother's suggestion, crying violently,"Indeed you won't, Kurt."
"Mea, Mea," the mother admonished her, "I propose to do all I can to keepLeonore here as long as possible, but--"
"But, Mea, she might be put to flight with fear and never be seen againif you attack your poor brothers in such a way," Kurt quickly concludedthe mother's sentence.
Mea had to laugh over this speech, which little resembled her mother'sstyle of talking.
"My dear Kurt," she said, "I am quite able to complete a sentence withoutyour assistance. I wanted to say that I should not be able to do verymuch, because the ladies will take Leonore when it suits them best. Ihave to admit, however, that there was some truth in Kurt's reply.Leonore has such a delicate, refined nature that it might frighten her tosee you carried away by such passion, Mea."
When the doctor came back again in two days he was surprised at theimproved condition of his little patient. "If she was not so veryyoung," the doctor said to Mrs. Maxa while she accompanied him out ofthe room, "I should say that her illness came largely from some hiddensorrow and inner suffering. She has apparently been able to shake it offin the good care and affectionate treatment she is getting here. But Ican scarcely believe this of a child."
When Mrs. Maxa asked him how soon Leonore could leave the room and spendthe day with her very active children, he answered, "She can do it fromto-morrow on. Nothing can possibly refresh her more than some livelyplaymates."
With this he took his leave. Going downstairs, he met Apollonie, who wasjust coming up with a supper-tray laden with delicate dishes for the sickchild.
"That is right," said the doctor; "it gives one an appetite only to lookat it."
"Yes, the poor child eats like a little bird," said Apollonie; "but Mrs.Rector says that there must be things to choose from in order to tempther. How is she getting along, doctor? Do you think she'll get wellagain? Isn't she just like a little angel?"
"That is hard for me to say, as I do not know any angels," he saidsmiling, "but she might be for all I know. I am sure that she will getwell with careful nursing, and you are sure to see to that, Mrs.Apollonie. You seem to think that in being given care of the child youhave drawn the big prize in the lottery."
"Indeed I have. I really have," she cried after him.
No event had ever been looked forward to with such great suspense in Mrs.Maxa's house as the appearance of Leonore. As soon as all the childrenwere home from school the next morning, their mother fetched her down.The three older ones were standing expectantly together in a littlegroup, while the two smaller ones had placed themselves with wide-openeyes near the door. Leonore, entering, greeted one after the other insuch an engaging, confidential way that she made them feel as if theywere old friends. She loved their mother so much and had been so closelydrawn to her that she was fond of the children before she had even seenthem. This pleased them tremendously, for they had expected Leonore tobe very different from themselves and had been rather afraid of her. Assoon as they saw her, they felt that they might each be special friendswith their charming guest. Leonore found herself surrounded by them allin a corner of the sofa. As
she did not look at all strong yet, themother had led her there. Leonore tried to answer all the questions,listen to all the projects and information which were showered upon her,while her eyes danced with merriment. These unusual surroundings madeLeonore so happy that her face became quite rosy. Mea had been alreadycompleted in her mind a plan which, if it succeeded, would make itpossible for her to have Leonore to herself sometimes. Since all herbrothers and sisters liked the visitor so much, it was not easy to gether off alone. If only her mother would sanction the plan! That day Meahad to set the table, and when lunch time had come, she quickly ran toher mother to ask her if she might take Apollonie's place in Leonore'sroom, and to her great delight she willingly consented. Mea told her shewould only be too glad to wait on Leonore at night if she could but bewith her. Leonore really needed no more special care, and in case of anemergency Mea could easily run down to fetch her mother.
"Leonore will mean more to you than she will ever realize," the motherconcluded, "and I feel very gratified if you can do something for her,too."
Mrs. Maxa then informed Apollonie of the new plan, and she felt surethat the latter would be glad to get home again.
"I do everything in my power for that angel," she exclaimed. "I shouldgo to live in the desert if only I could procure a home for her."
After dinner she went to Leonore to say good-bye, and the child pressedher hand most warmly, thanking her for the good care she had received.
"I shall never forget how kind you have been, Apollonie," she saidheartily. "I shall come to see you as soon as I am allowed to go. Ihope that we shall see each other very often."
"Oh, yes, I hope so! Please ask Mrs. Rector to let you come to me asoften as possible," said Apollonie before leaving.
Leonore now told the children that Apollonie had very vividly describedto her the lovely home of her parents and the wonderful life in thecastle. She had said frankly that she would never desire such a finehome, if only Salo and she could call a little house their own, so thegood-hearted Apollonie had suggested that they might live with her. Shecould easily let them have the whole cottage with the exception of a tinychamber. She could wait on them, and what more could they desire?Leonore had felt that this would be better than anything she had dreamedof, as she could come over to Mrs. Maxa and her children as often as shepleased. How happy Salo would be if she wrote him about it.
"Yes, you can," Maezli declared. "Her house is a lovely place to live in.Loneli is there, who does everything one wants her to, and Apolloniealways cooks what one likes best."
Kurt made a little enigmatical remark to Maezli about her greed, butbefore she could have it explained to her, the mother turned to Leonore.
"I do not want you to be deluded by this thought, dear child," she said,"for that might only bring you disappointment. As soon as you are well,you can walk to Apollonie's cottage and then you will see what a tinyplace it is. The great obstacle of Salo's studies would not be put asidein that way, either, for he could not join you there for years."
"Oh, I was thinking all the time how lovely it would be to live withApollonie! It would be so wonderful--I could live with her there and Salocould come to us in the holidays till he is through with his studies.Then we could both settle here in the neighborhood."
Leonore had been counting on this new scheme and she looked up at Mrs.Maxa as if she longed for her consent. As Mrs. Maxa did not have theheart to shatter the child's hopes completely, she decided to let thematter rest for the present. As soon as they could visit Apollonie,Leonore could judge for herself how impossible the plan was.
Leonore's eyes were usually very sad, but occasionally she would lookquite merry, and it was so that she appeared that evening when thechildren were surrounding her on all sides. When each had to tell her somuch and tried to be nearest her, she experienced the feeling that shehad come to a family to which she really belonged. Each of the childrenhad founded a special relation with Leonore. Bruno saw himself as herprotector and adviser, and as her brother's close friend he meant to keepan active watch over her. Mea, whose thoughts had been completelyabsorbed for days in her new friend, brought her all the warmth of aheart which craved friendship passionately. Kurt had made it his duty tocheer up the rather melancholy child as much as was in his power. Lippo,still filled a little with his post of sentinel, always came close to heras if he still needed to watch over her. Maezli was of the firm opinionthat she had to entertain the guest, so she would relate fragments offunny things she knew, passing from one to another. In this way Leonoregot to hear of the Knippel family. The time passed so quickly that loudlaments were heard when the mother announced that it was time for Leonoreto retire. She did not want her strength to be overtaxed on her firstday out of bed.
"We shall have many more days after this when we can be together," sheadded. "Let us be glad of that."
"There might not be so many, for I feel quite well already," Leonore saidwith a sigh.
Mrs. Maxa smiled.
"We must thank God for that. But you need to get strong, and I hope thatyou may find the needed recreation and change here." Then she accompaniedthe two girls up to their room at the top of the house. As Mea was to beLeonore's sole nurse from now on, Mrs. Maxa wanted to reassure herselfthat nothing was missing. It was in Mea's nature to endow every newfriend with marvellous qualities. Her imagination was always as activeas her heart, which she gave unreservedly on such occasions.Unfortunately Mea suffered many disappointments in that way, because onnearer acquaintance her friends very seldom came up to her expectations.She always tried hard to hold on to the original image, even if it didnot in the least coincide with what her friends proved to be in realityand this brought on numberless fights with Kurt, who, with his usualshrewdness, could not help revealing to her the real state of affairs.This always disillusioned her finally, for it was hard to deny hisproofs. Whenever another girl woke a passionate love in her, she wasbound to expect something unusual from her.
A week had passed since Leonore had spent her first day as convalescentamong the family. As Mea had the privilege of being in the closest, mostintimate contact with her new friend in the late evening hours, she wasin a state of perfect bliss. Every moment of the day that she was homeshe tried to be at Leonore's side and in her walks to and from schoolthere existed for her no other subject of conversation than Leonore.
It was quite unusual that Kurt had not produced a rhyme about her greatdevotion. He had not once said: "Things will be different after awhile." Brother and sister this time were entirely of one opinion abouther: it even seemed as if Kurt himself had caught a touch of thefriendship fever, as he used to call Mea's great devotion.
Apparently Bruno was of the same opinion, too. In all his free hours heused to sit in a corner of the room with his books, paying no attentionto anything else, but since Leonore had come he always joined the merrygroup and generally had something to relate or to show for Leonore'sentertainment. This he did in a quiet, gentler manner, such that itseemed as if he would hardly have behaved otherwise.
Lippo felt so comfortable in Leonore's presence that he always kept asclose to her as possible. Even when he told his experiences at greatlength, she never became impatient, but encouraged him to go on when hisbrothers and sisters made sarcastic remarks about him.
From time to time he would confidentially say to her: "Just stay with usalways, Leonore. You are at home here now, even if you have no homeanywhere else." This was uttered in a spirit of utter conviction, as thelittle boy had heard it from her own lips and was sure that this would bethe best for them all.
Leonore blushed a deep scarlet at these words, as if Lippo had pronounceda thought she did not dare to foster in her own heart. Once his motherhad noticed this, so she told Lippo one evening, not to say this again.As it was impossible to keep Leonore, it was much better not to speak ofit, as it only gave her pain. As this was a firm command, Lippo obeyedfaithfully. He kept on, however, showing Leonore that he loved to bewith her.
Maezli's love for
Leonore showed itself more than anything in a wish tolend her a helping; hand in many things which the little girl felt herlovely friend stood in need of. She had seen quite plainly that Leonoreoften became very sad when everyone else about her was laughing and sheherself had been quite bright a moment before. But Maezli knew how shewas going to help. She meant to tell Apollonie how to fit up her cottagefor Leonore and Salo, who, she hoped, would spend his holidays there,too. She meant to superintend these preparations herself and to have itall fixed as daintily as possible.
By this time Mea's new friend was adored by the whole family, and theyshowed it by doing all in their power for her. They had agreed that shediffered absolutely from Mea's former friends. They could not analyzewherein lay the charm which pervaded her whole personality. The childrenhad never known anybody who was so polite towards everyone, includingKathy, who only spoke affectionate, tender words, and always seemed sograteful when others were kind to her. This spirit was something new andextremely delightful. They had to admit to themselves that they wishedeverybody would act in such a way, as this would do away forever with thefights and altercations that had always arisen between them, and forwhich they were afterwards always sorry. The only thing they would havebeen glad to change in Leonore were her sudden fits of gloom, whichaffected them all. Leonore tried very hard to fight these depressingthoughts, but they went so deep that she seldom succeeded. Their motherconsoled them by saying that Leonore would get stronger as soon as shecould take walks with them in the woods and meadows, and that feelingswhich now weighed on her would then seem lighter.
A few days later the children, including Leonore, came back with rosycheeks and glowing eyes from their first walk to the surrounding hills.The fresh mountain breeze had exhilarated them so much that the feelingof well-being was laughing from their young faces. Even Leonore'scheeks, that were usually so pale, were faintly tinged with a rosy hue.The mother stepped out of the garden into the road in order to welcomethe children.
"Oh," she cried out joyfully. "This first walk has been splendid.Leonore looks like a fresh apple-blossom."
Taking her hand with great tenderness between her own, she gazed at hervery closely in order to rejoice over the rosy color on the child'sdelicate face. That moment a beggar-woman approached, holding by eachhand a little girl. The children's clothes were so ragged that theirlittle bodies were scarcely covered.
Looking at Mrs. Maxa, the beggar-woman said, "Yes, yes, children canmake one happy enough when one has a home. You are a fortunate lady tohave a good roof for your own. It would be better for two such homelessones as these not to exist! They are sure to remain homeless all theirlives, and that is the saddest thing of all."
With that she stretched out her hand, for Mrs. Maxa was looking at herintently. Leonore had quickly taken off her shawl and jacket.
"May I give it to them?" she asked Mrs. Maxa in a low voice.
The beggar-woman had already noticed the girl's gesture and stretched outher hands in her direction.
"I am glad, young lady, that you have pity for these homeless ones, evenif you do not know what that means. God bless you!"
Leonore looked imploringly into Mrs. Maxa's face. The latter nodded, asit was too late now to explain to Leonore what action would have beenbetter. She made up her mind to do it afterwards for similar occasions.With many words the poor woman thanked her for the gift. She was veryanxious to kiss the young lady's hand for the two garments, but Leonorehad immediately run away. Mea followed and found Leonore, who had beenso merry on the walk, sitting in her sofa-corner, crying bitterly withher head between her hands.
"What is the matter, Leonore? Why do you cry so terribly?" Mea, asked,quite frightened.
She could not answer at once. The mother and the other children had comein, too, and now they all surrounded the sobbing girl in great amazementand sympathy.
"That is the way I am," she said at last, sobbing aloud, "I am homelesslike them. Anyone who is homeless has to remain so always, and it isterrible. That is what the woman said, and I believe her. How shouldone find a home if one can't look for one?"
Leonore had never before broken out into such passionate grief. Mrs.Maxa looked at her very sorrowfully.
"She is a real Wallerstaetten at the bottom of her heart," she said toherself. "That will mean more struggles for her than I thought."
At a sign from her the children plainly understood that she asked them togo into the garden for a little while. Sitting down beside Leonore, shetook her hand between her own and waited till the violent outbreak hadceased.
Then she said tenderly: "Oh, Leonore, don't you remember what you told meonce when you were ill and I was sitting on your bed? You told me thatyou found a song among your mother's music which always comforted youwhen you seemed to lose courage and confidence in God. You said that italways made you feel that He was not forgetting you and your brother, andthat he is looking after you in whatever way is best for you, even if youcan't recognize it now. Have you forgotten this? Can you tell me yourfavorite verse in it?"
"Oh, yes, I can," said Leonore, "it is the verse:
God, who disposest all things well, I want but what thou givest me, Oh how can we thine acts foretell, When Thou art far more wise than we?
"Yes, I always feel better when I think of that," Leonore added after atime in a totally changed voice. "It makes me happy because I know thatGod can do for us what Salo and I can't do for ourselves. But wheneverything stays the same for so long and there is no prospect of anychange, it is so hard to keep this faith. If we can't do anything forourselves, it seems as if everything would have to be that way. Thewoman said that if anybody is homeless once, he has to remain that wayfor the rest of his life."
"No, no, Leonore," Mrs. Maxa answered, "you must not take a chance wordseriously. The poor woman only said it because she saw no immediate helpfor her children. It is not true at all. Of course you can't look aheadinto your future, but you can ask God to give you full confidence in Him.Then you can leave it all to Him, and the sense of His protection willmake you calmer. It will also keep you from making uncertain plans,which might only bring fresh disappointments."
Leonore had attentively followed every word Mrs. Maxa had uttered.Looking thoughtfully in front of her for a moment, she said, "AuntMaxa"--this was the mode of address she had long ago been granted--"don'tyou want me to think of Apollonie's cottage either? Shall we have adisappointment, if I hope that we can find a home there?"
"Yes, my dear child. It is entirely out of the question for you and yourbrother to live there. I should not tell you this if I were notabsolutely certain, and you can imagine that I should not shatter such ahope if I did not have to."
It hurt Mrs. Maxa very much to say this, but she found it necessary.She knew that Apollonie in her measureless love and admiration wouldnever be able to refuse a single one of Leonore's wishes, even if itmeant the impossible.
"I shall not think about it any more then," said Leonore, embracing Mrs.Maxa with utter confidence, "and I shall be glad now that I can stillremain with you."
Later that evening when the children were all together and Leonore hadconquered her grief for that day, a letter came for their mother fromHanover. She had informed the ladies of Leonore's complete recovery andhad added that the doctor thought it necessary for the child to enjoy thestrengthening mountain air for a while longer. She herself had no otherwish than to keep Leonore in her house as long as possible. The ladies'answer was full of warm thanks for her great help in their embarrassingsituation. They were very glad to accept her great kindness for two moreweeks, after which one of them would come to fetch Leonore home.
Mrs. Maxa glanced with a heavy heart at the child to whom she had grownas devoted as to her own. She felt dreadfully sad at the thought ofletting her go away so soon. The worst of it was that she knew theladies' abode had never really meant a home for poor Leonore. It onlydoubled her grief to know how hard it would be for the child to leaveher, but as she had no right over h
er, she could do nothing. The onlything she could plan was to ask the ladies to let her have Leonoresometimes during the summer holidays. She decided not to dampen thechildren's good spirits that evening with the discouraging news in theletter.