CHAPTER VII.
LONG-WISHED-FOR HAPPINESS.
The next morning, Mrs. Birkenfeld went early to the widow's house, whereshe was most cordially received; for she as well as her friend Lili hadbeen a favorite pupil of Mrs. Kurd's husband. What pleasure the ardentteacher had taken in these pupils, and what success he had had in teachingthem! He had never been tired of talking about it, and his wife had neverforgotten it.
Mrs. Birkenfeld was shown into the sitting-room, where Mrs. Kurd insistedon her taking a seat, saying that she had much to tell her, for she hadnot seen her before since she had had the strangers from Karlsruhe in herhouse. There was a great deal to say about them and especially about theaccident of the day before. When the widow had talked herself out, Mrs.Birkenfeld asked if she could speak to the lady, and to the little girlwho had been hurt.
Mrs. Kurd carried the message to Mrs. Ehrenreich, who came directly,followed by Dora, who wore a thick bandage upon her arm, and looked verypale and delicate. After the first greetings, Mrs. Birkenfeld took Dora'shand tenderly in her own, and inquired with sympathy about the wound. Shethen turned to Aunt Ninette and told her how deeply she regretted theaccident, and inquired in a friendly way after her health and that of Mr.Ehrenreich. Aunt Ninette lost no time in giving her full particulars ofher husband's illness; how he had sadly needed fresh country air, and howshe had made inquiries for a quiet secluded spot, and had at last chosenthis very place; how he had to keep the windows shut tight, because hecould not bear the least sound when he was writing, and therefore he nevergot any fresh air after all; and how anxious she was all the time, lestthe vertigo instead of being cured by his being here, should come on worsethan ever.
"I am very sorry indeed, that Mr. Ehrenreich should suffer from mychildren's noise;" said Mrs. Birkenfeld, understanding at once the stateof the case, "if Mr. Ehrenreich does not walk out at all, he certainlyought to have an unusually airy place to work in. I have an idea; quite atthe farthest end of our garden, away from the house, and from thefrequented part of the grounds, stands a cool summer house, with seats anda table. If Mr. Ehrenreich would use that for his study, I would directthe children to keep entirely away from that part of the garden."
Aunt Ninette was delighted with this proposal; she said she would suggestit to her husband, and she was sure that he would accept it with manythanks.
"And you, my dear little girl, I hope your Aunt will allow you to come tosee us to-day and every day. You shall get well in our garden; my childrenhave much to make up to you for."
"Can I really go into that beautiful garden where the children are?" askedlittle Dora, who could scarcely believe in her good fortune; and such alook of gladness shot from her eyes at the thought, that her aunt lookedat her with surprise, for she had never seen an expression like that inthem before. This beam of delight that transfigured the child's face,spoke so directly to Mrs. Birkenfeld's heart, that tears came to her eyes,and she loved the child from that moment. She did not know why orwherefore; yet these joyfully-beaming eyes had stirred a whole world ofslumbering recollections in her heart.
It was arranged that directly after dinner Dora should go over into thegarden, and stay there till late in the evening. Thereupon Mrs. Birkenfeldtook her leave.
Aunt Ninette hastened at once to her husband's study, and laid the newplan before him. Uncle Titus received it with pleasure, for although thewant of fresh air was becoming very trying to him, yet taking a walk forair and exercise was something he had never been accustomed to, and hecould not make up his mind to the loss of so much valuable time. The offerwas therefore very seasonable. He even proposed to go to the summer-housedirectly, and his wife accompanied him. They took the longest way, roundthe outside of the garden, so as to avoid meeting any one. At the farthestend they came to a little garden-gate which led directly to the secludedsummer-house. Close to the little house were two old nut-trees and aweeping willow, with thick pendent branches, and behind, far away intothe distance, stretched the soft green meadows. Far and near, all wasperfectly still. Uncle Titus had brought several thick books with him,under each arm, for he thought he should like to take possession at once,if he found it to his mind. Aunt Ninette carried the inkstand and paper,and Dora brought up the rear, with cigars and the wax-taper.
Mr. Ehrenreich was well pleased with the place; he settled himself atonce, took his seat at the table, drew in a long breath of the pure airwhich blew in through the open doors and windows, and softly rubbed hishands with satisfaction. He began to write directly, and Aunt Ninette andDora withdrew, and left him alone to his work.
By this time the news of the twins' exploit of yesterday, had spreadthrough the house. For when Rolf returned from his morning lessons, hewent straight for his bow, and of course discovered at once the loss ofone arrow. Very much incensed, he ran about the house to find out who hadbeen meddling with his property. He had little trouble in discovering theoffenders, for the twins were so broken down by the suffering they hadbeen through, that they confessed at once, and told him the whole story,including their horror at the cry of pain, and adding that their motherhad now gone to the cottage, to inquire who had been hit. Then they showedRolf where they had fired the arrow through the hedge, and to be surethere it was, lying on the ground, in Mrs. Kurd's garden. The recovery ofhis treasure put Rolf again in good-humor. He rushed back to the house,calling out, "Jule, Paula, did you know that the twins shot a childyesterday?" And so it came about that all six of the children, and MissHanenwinkel, besides, stood on the stone steps, on tip-toe withexcitement, awaiting the mother's return from the cottage. The moment sheappeared, Hunne called out, "Where was it hit?" and then each one asked adifferent question, and all at once:
"Is it a child?" "Is it a boy?" "How big is it?" "What is its name?" "Isit much hurt?"
"Come into the house, first," said the mother, turning a deaf ear to theshower of questions; and when they were clustered about her in the house,she told them about the pale, delicate little maiden, with a bandage uponher arm, so tight that she could scarcely use it. She said that the childwas apparently about Paula's age; that she spoke excellent German, andlooked very nice and well-bred; that her name was Dora, and last of all,that she was to come into the garden after dinner, and then they couldmake her acquaintance. All was now curiosity and excitement; how did thechild look--what would she say? And each began to speculate what his ownparticular relation would be to the new-comer.
Paula stood still in intense delight; and only said, "Oh, if she is sonice, and just my age, too, mamma, how happy I shall be!" She had visionsof a great, indissoluble friendship, and she could hardly wait tillafternoon. Rolf was sure that Dora was just the right age to guess hischarades, and that he should make friends with her at once on that ground.The twins had a feeling that Dora belonged especially to them, becausethey had shot her; and they thought she would be the very one to help themin carrying out their schemes; for they often needed a third person, andPaula was never in the mood.
"Well, I am glad that Dora is coming," said Hunne, "for I can go to herSaturdays, when all the chairs are standing on their heads, and no oneelse will have me."
Last of all Jule asked, "Hunne, I want to get some good out of Dora, too,what shall it be?"
"I know," said the child, after thinking awhile, "she can help you get offyour riding-boots--you know there weren't enough of us, last time."
"The very thing," said Jule, laughing.
Dora was also greatly excited--she fairly trembled. One moment she did notknow what to do for joy that the longed-for happiness had come, and shewas to go into the garden, among the lovely, sweet-smelling flowers, andall those merry children. But the next moment she was afraid. She hadwatched the children from a distance, and she knew them all by sight; shealready felt partly acquainted with them, and each one had excited anindividual interest in her mind. But they had not even seen her, at all;she was a perfectly strange child to them. And then she said to herselfwith real distress, that she was so ignorant and
awkward, and they knew somuch, and were so clever, that they would certainly despise her, andwould want to have nothing to do with her. She kept running it all overand over in her mind during dinner, and could scarcely eat a mouthful, inher excitement. Before she knew it, the time had come, and her aunt said,
"Now, Dora, you can go!"
So Dora put on her hat and went over to the next house. She went in at thefront door, and passed through the long entry, at the other end of whichthe door into the garden stood open. Going out of this door she foundherself in full view of the whole family. Directly in front of her, underthe apple-tree, sat Mr. and Mrs. Birkenfeld, and round about them were thesix children. Her timidity came back again, at seeing the parents, for shehad expected to see only the children. She stood hesitating, and glancedshyly at the company. Little Hunne caught sight of her, and slipping downfrom his seat, ran toward her with outstretched arms, crying out,
"Come, Dora, there is room here on my seat; Come!" and seizing her hand,he pulled her along toward the others, who all came eagerly to meet her,and welcomed her as cordially as if she were an old friend. So, occupiedwith questions and greetings, she came to where the parents sat, and theywere so friendly and kind, that all her shyness passed away, and she wassoon sitting on the same seat with Hunne, in the midst of the circle, asmuch at home as if she belonged there.
Mr. and Mrs. Birkenfeld soon left their seats and walked up and down thegarden; and then the children pressed round Dora, and each had someparticular thing to say to her. Paula spoke least; but she looked at thenew acquaintance, as if she were making a study of her. Rolf, Wili andLili stood as near Dora as they could squeeze, to make her hear what theywere saying, and Hunne kept fast hold of her, as if afraid that she wouldvanish away.
"If you squeeze Dora to death the first time she makes us a visit, shewill not come a second time;" remarked Julius, who sat stretched out atfull length on a garden-bench; "so take my advice, and give her room tobreathe."
"How old are you, Dora? Not much older than I am?" asked Lili eagerly.
"I am just twelve."
"Oh, what a shame! then you are as old as Paula;" said Lili regretfully,who had hoped that Dora would belong to her in every respect, even in age.
"No, no," cried Rolf, "Dora is my age; at least nearer mine than Paula's,if she is only just twelve."
Rolf thought this opened a favorable prospect for special companionship."Are you good at guessing riddles? And are you fond of them?"
"Yes, yes, and I have made a riddle;" cried Hunne, putting in his oar,"Now guess mine, Dora. My first you can eat but not drink"--
Rolf cut the little boy's charade ruthlessly in two with,
"Oh, get away with your old riddle, Hunne; it is no riddle at all! Nowlisten, Dora;
"My first conceals from light of day--" But Rolf was not destined tofinish his verses, for Lili had seized Dora's hand and was pulling herwith all her might, saying,
"Come, Dora, I will play you everything I know." Dora had asked her if shewas the one who played on the piano, and Lili thought this a good excusefor stealing the new friend for herself. Lili had her way, for Dora reallywanted to hear the piano, though she did not like to disappoint Rolf.
"You must not take it amiss," she said, turning back to speak to him, asLili drew her away, "I am not good at guessing, and I should only botheryou with my stupidity."
"Won't you try just one?" asked Rolf, rather disappointed.
"Oh, yes, if you want me to. I will try bye and bye," she called back, forLili was fairly dragging her towards the house. Hunne had not let go hishold of Dora, and was pulled along too. He kept calling out, "Mine too,guess mine too," and she promised that she would do her best. Wili alsowent with them, and all four betook themselves to the school-room wherethe piano stood. The twins had been taking music lessons from MissHanenwinkel for more than a year, not so much because their parents caredabout having them learn to play on the piano, as because they thought thelessons would be a pleasant occupation, and the music would have asoothing effect on the children's somewhat restless dispositions; andmoreover, last but by no means least, the twins could not be up to anymischievous pranks, while they were busy practising.
Now that they stood before the piano, Lili's ardor for playing it somewhatcooled, and she reverted to her usual point of view with regard to it.
"You know, Dora, of course," she said, "that playing on the piano is themost tedious thing in the world. Why, when I have to practise, I getperfectly tired to death, don't you, Wili?" Wili assented emphatically.
"How can you feel so?" asked Dora, casting a longing look at the piano,"Oh, if I could only sit down there and play as you do, Lili, I should beperfectly happy."
"Do you really think so?" said Lili, struck with the expression of Dora'seyes. She opened the piano quickly, and began to play a little melody.Dora sat by, thirstily drinking in the sounds, and looking as charmed asif Lili were conferring some substantial benefit upon her. The sight ofher pleasure was very inspiriting to Lili, who kept on playing better andbetter, and when Wili saw the impression produced, he wanted to take hisshare.
"Now let me play, Lili," he said, as she came to the end; but Lili was nowquite in the spirit of it, and did not stop for an instant, but began torepeat the piece from the beginning.
"Do you know any other tune?" asked Dora.
"No; Miss Hanenwinkel will not teach me another till I have learned myexercises better; but I know what I will do, Dora, just wait tillto-morrow, and then I will give you music lessons, and we will learn everso many tunes. Should you like that?"
"Will you really?" asked Dora, and she looked so overjoyed at the bareidea, that Lili at once decided to begin the lessons on the very next day.
"But my arm!" exclaimed Dora. They had forgotten that. But Lili did notgive up her plans so easily.
"Oh, your arm will soon be better," she said, "and meantime I will learnever so many pieces, and be all the more able to teach you."
At this moment the big bell rang for supper. Hunne grasped Dora's hand,declaring that there was no time to lose, for his father always camepunctually to his meals, and Hunne liked to do the same. The table wasspread under the apple-tree, and covered with a great variety of goodthings. As she sat there looking about at these new acquaintances whoalready seemed like old friends, Dora felt as if she were dreaming; it wasso much more delightful even than she had hoped; and she was almost afraidthat she should wake up all at once, and find it only a dream. But she didnot wake up, except to find that her plate had been loaded with goodthings, so very real, that all anxiety passed away, and she realized thatshe was living, and living remarkably well, into the bargain.
"Do eat your cake, or you will be the last to get through," said Hunne,"see, Dora, Jule and I have eaten four. Jule and I can do a great manythings; only we can't pull the riding-boots off very well. You'll helpabout that, won't you, Dora?" "Eat your cakes, and be quiet, Hunne," saidJule, in a warning tone; and Dora did not answer about the boots, for Mr.Birkenfeld was asking her questions, and she began to tell him about herfather, and of their life together in Hamburg and Karlsruhe.
Up to this time, Paula had not made any attempt to talk with Dora; butwhen supper was over, she came up to her, and said, softly,
"Will you come with me a little while now?"
Dora was delighted with the invitation, for she had begun to be afraidthat Paula did not mean to have anything to say to her, and yet she hadbeen particularly attracted toward this quiet girl, so near her own age.Paula had wanted to see what sort of a girl Dora was, before she madeadvances, and she was evidently well pleased with what she saw, for shenow took her new friend by the hand, and led her away down the gardenpath. The twins and Hunne, and even Rolf, were soon tired of waiting forDora to come back, and went calling and searching everywhere for her; butthey could not find her; she had quite disappeared. In fact, Paula hadtaken her all round the garden, and then up to her own room. There the twogirls sat and talked, and talked, about all
sorts of things. They toldeach other their thoughts and feelings on various subjects, and foundthemselves in perfect sympathy. It was a great happiness to both, forneither had ever had an intimate friend, of her own age, one whose tastes,purposes and ideals were like her own.
"Now we will be 'best friends' forever," they said, and sat, forgetful ofall the world besides, till the stars stood shining in the heavens above,and all the earth was bathed in shadow.
The mother found them at last; she had suspected that they had takenrefuge in Paula's room. Dora sprang up hastily when she noticed how darkit had grown, and recollected that her aunt would be expecting her. Theother children were waiting below, rather a dissatisfied little party atDora's disappearance; for they all wanted to talk to her. Rolf wasparticularly annoyed.
"Why Dora," he said, "I thought you were going to guess my charade; willyou try now?"
But Dora said it was really time for her to go home; so Mrs. Birkenfeldtold them that they must wait till to-morrow for all they had to say, andthat Dora would come every day to see them and would take lessons withthem too. This satisfied them, and they charged Dora to come very earlyand stay very late, for there was a great deal to do and a great deal toshow her. The leave taking lasted a long time, but Rolf suddenly cut thething short.
He was going to have the last word with Dora, for he was to walk home withher. As they crossed the grass plot towards the cottage, the stars wereshining so brightly overhead, that Dora stood still.
"Look up, Rolf;" she said, "do you see those five twinkling stars upthere? I know them very well; they were my own stars in Karlsruhe, andthey are here with me too."
"Oh yes, I've seen those; they are on our map of the Heavens. Do you knowtheir names, Dora?"
"No, indeed; can you tell the names of the stars Rolf? How much you doknow!" said Dora admiringly. "Don't those five all belong together, andhave one name? There are others too that look as if they belongedtogether. Do you know them all? How I should like to learn them from you!"
Rolf was much pleased with the idea of giving lessons in astronomy, to oneso eager to learn.
"Let us begin now," said he enthusiastically; "I will tell them all to youone after another, even if it takes till midnight."
This reminded Dora how late it was.
"No, Rolf" she said quickly, "thank you very much, but no more to-night.To-morrow; will you tell me to-morrow?"
"Well, to-morrow then, Dora, don't forget. Good-night."
"Good-night, Rolf;" and Dora hurried into the house. She was so brimmingover with happiness and the many pleasures of the day, that she sprangup-stairs to Aunt Ninette, and began to tell her everything all mixed uptogether, with such astonishing vivacity, that her aunt drew back ratherstartled.
"Dora! Dora! think a minute! this excitement may go to your arm! Go tosleep as quick as you can; that is the best thing you can do."
Dora went to her bed-room, but sleep was impossible. She knelt down at herbed-side and gave heart-felt thanks to God for sending her all thishappiness; she resolved that when these holidays were over she would goback to her work again without complaint; no matter how long the hoursmight be, and she would never forget these happy days that the good Godhad sent her now. It was long before she could close her eyes for verybliss.