“No,” Cornelli answered curtly.
“Children of your age ought to be able to, though,” said the cousin. “But we have not come here to teach you that; have we, Betty? You probably do not even know how to hold the needle in your hand.”
“Why should it be necessary for Cornelli to learn embroidery just now?” replied the friend. “She has lovely books that she can read; she has shown us some herself. Don’t you prefer reading a pretty story to running about in the stable, child?”
“No, I don’t,” replied Cornelli crossly.
“We must not pay attention to what she says,” remarked Miss Dorner. “When Cornelli is bored, she will probably turn to her books herself. Please, Miss Mina, keep an eye on Cornelli. Nonsense like this must not happen any more.”
When supper was finished, Cornelli went up to her room, and Miss Mina followed her.
“You certainly don’t need to do such silly things,” she said scoldingly, as soon as they were on the stairs, where her words could not be overheard. “I have enough to do nowadays without watching whether you put on a new dress every few hours.”
“It isn’t my fault,” Cornelli replied morosely. “They ordered me to do it.”
“They won’t always smell it when you have been to the stable,” scolded Miss Mina.
“Yes, but they do smell it,” Cornelli retorted, “and even if they didn’t, I should have to obey. They told me to change every time I go to the stable.”
“Yes, but now you are told not to go there any more, remember that!—so your frequent changing will have to stop,” grumbled Miss Mina, while she was helping Cornelli to take off her hot dress.
“Now I have to clean it, besides! You actually give more work than six well brought up children.” Miss Mina had never before spoken so roughly to Cornelli, for she had always been anxious to keep in the child’s good graces. But she had suddenly ceased to care about that.
Cornelli looked at her with astonishment. The child’s eyes were also full of something that nobody had ever seen there before. Mina seemed to understand: “I did not do you any harm,” she said quickly; “what I have said is only the truth.” With that she left the room.
“If everybody treats me that way I’ll be that way, too,” cried Cornelli with a furious look. Suddenly taking hold of the dress she had just taken off she threw it out of the window. After a while Mina returned, bringing back the dress. Cornelli was sitting on the windowsill crossly looking down at the yard.
“Look out that the wind doesn’t blow you down, too, like your dress,” Miss Mina said unpleasantly.
“I don’t care,” Cornelli replied obstinately. “It did not blow down at all, for I threw it down on purpose.”
“Oh, is this the way you behave? Next time you can get it yourself,” said Miss Mina, running away indignantly.
Next morning Cornelli was walking across the courtyard, happily talking to her teacher, whose hand she was holding. During her school hours she had forgotten all the troubles of the day before, for Mr. Malinger had been as kind to her as ever. He at least had not changed.
“Could you give me a little rose?” he asked smilingly, while they were passing the blooming rose bushes. So Cornelli quickly ran from bush to bush till she had gathered a fine bunch of dark and light, white and red roses. These she offered to her teacher, warning him not to prick himself. Then the two parted most cordially.
Cornelli, on coming back, ran swiftly toward the stable. Suddenly, however, she stood stock still, for she remembered that she was not allowed to go there any more. No longer could she see the darling little kid and watch its growth. She would be unable to tell when the moment had come for it to be hitched to a carriage to be driven about by her. She might not be allowed even to do that! She hoped, however, that her father might be back by that time and that then everything would be different. Cornelli danced with joy at that thought, and her old gaiety seemed to return. She felt like going to Esther and talking it all over with her good old friend. The moment the child went into the house, Miss Dorner stepped out of the living room.
“You have just come in time,” she said, “for I have to show you something. Where are you going?”
“To the kitchen,” replied Cornelli.
“You have nothing whatever to do in the kitchen and you shall not go there. I thought you knew that you have to go upstairs before lunch to fix your hair. But before you go up come in here. I have to tell you something very important.”
Cornelli followed her cousin into the room. Miss Grideelen was standing near the window as if she had expected the return of her friend. Leading Cornelli to the sofa, Miss Dorner pointed to it, saying: “You are sure to know who has done this and you had better tell me right away.”
On the dark plush coverings were visible distinct marks of dusty shoe soles. There was no trace of a whole foot, but one could see that somebody had trampled on the sofa.
“I did not do it,” said Cornelli with sparkling eyes.
“Who in all the house would have done it except you? Please ask yourself that, Cornelli! There is no question about it at all,” said Miss Dorner. “It is probably one of your little jokes similar to throwing your dresses out of the window. I know all about it. Just let me tell you this! It is the
